Baile el Tango
by Lucicelo
Summary: Tango AU: Through a chance meeting between their coaches, Sakamoto and Atsushi embark in a journey of self discovery in their shared dance.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is more of an accumulation of the tango!AU I concocted while watching the series. This idea wouldn't leave my head and I thought about writing it all out before I lost inspiration. I tried to keep it under 10k and one chapter but it didn't turn out that way. It's beyond that number and in these long chapters._

 _I used some tango terminology which might not be correct. Just letting you guys know._

 _Thank you all for reading._

 _-Lucicelo_

* * *

Part 1

Hayabusa leaned against the wall, inspecting his advanced class. The chosen music filled the studio, giving the example of rhythm for his students to use in their dance. His sharp eyes caught the slightest misstep. Keeping his observations fair, he commented on those particular students. They straightened up, corrected their form, and continued on dancing. He picked up no scathing remarks or complaints from those he pointed out. The experienced dancers had gotten lessons from more demanding teachers.

He taught them of his teaching methods. The small preview he gave in the first lesson presented his expectations. No nonsense and complete focus. His delinquent past came out through his tone and demeanor. Scaring the newer people into trepidation and respect. Not that he advertised his past, his certifications spoke for him.

His trophies stayed with his father in a nice glass display case. It seemed ridiculous to keep them in storage and his apartment held no open space. His father showed them with pride toward anyone who asked. Too bad his younger brothers didn't gain a love for dancing. They enjoyed seeing him stomp out the competition throughout the years.

Their bond strengthened they helped him after his accident. He moved back into his father's apartment and his little brothers waited on him. On some days, he added more demands but he kept them leveled. His brothers saw it as a way to repay him when he used to look after them. A touching gesture on their part.

He shifted his gaze in between his students, landing on his newest talent. His student soaked in his suggestions and applied them into his dance. Picking up on the newest choreography while others struggled. Yet, he struck out of the technical aspects and added his own spin to his movements. A natural passion for dancing showed through once he stepped onto the dance floor.

Atsushi Maeda, Acchan, brought a new flavor to his group. A kid with the same past as himself and got out of his trouble making ways. He showed promise from the starter class and rose up into his advanced class. Atsushi continued his courses once he saw the benefit of keeping his mind busy. He won some competitions and strove to enter into the big leagues. Coming from someone who previously held no ambitions and found dancing undesirable, he placed his practices to a high standard. He dove into dancing once he threw off his preconceived notions.

Atsushi turned into his protégé. The one he paired with his best students whenever the season started.

He winced at the wrong placement of the feet from Atsushi's partner. One from his intermediate class. It was obvious that she didn't practice whilst at home. She almost tripped but Atsushi held her upright before she fell onto her face. Atsushi soothed her concerns and showed her the right positioning of their feet. Her body's tension went down and they continued on dancing.

If only Atsushi found a suitable partner. Atsushi wasted his time going through his different classes. No one managed to keep up with his ever changing dancing style. The friends Atsushi made throughout the circuit had their own partners or resided overseas. This gave him a small window of finding someone just to give him enough time to schedule enough practice meeting.

This bad luck streak might turn into Atsushi's downfall for the year.

Hayabusa clapped his hands. "Alright. Not bad. We can use more improvement on the cardio. I can hear some of you wheezing from where I'm standing." Those select few hunched their shoulders in embarrassment. "We're done for today. Thank you. Class dismissed." He heard scatters of relief in between his students. Last week, he held them for an extra hour for slacking off. "Before I forget, Acchan, stay behind for a bit."

"Got it." Atsushi waved at his classmates before jogging toward his teacher. "What's up? Something wrong?" He grasped the collar of his shirt and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"According to the sign up sheet, you haven't picked your partner for the next competition. You told me months ago that you wanted to join in this time. This is your chance to break into the big leagues. What's the hold up? Backing out on me?"

Atsushi rubbed the back of his neck, scowling, he explained. "No luck on finding my partner. I tried looking throughout the different classes you give but no one fits my style. I got it with Yagi but she quit after the last competition. Her parents insisted that she focus on university instead of dancing."

Hayabusa sighed. "Yeah, I get it. Most parents don't want their kids dedicating their lives in dancing unless it brings in the money. Financial stability and all that shit." He rubbed his leg when a twinge of pain passed through his old injury. "Give me a heads up when you find your partner. You'll need all the practice to get the technique down with this new one."

"Yeah, yeah," Atsushi glanced down at Hayabusa's leg, he swallowed his words of concern. "I'll keep my phone charged in case you call me for something."

* * *

 _Smoke drifted through the air, clogging the senses. Different groups of eyes started at Hayabusa as he walked through the area. Keeping his eyes hard, his face stone cold, he ignored their jeers. He heard worse commentary and none of it fazed him. In his younger years, he popped off through few words, now, he kept himself calm. His attitude went onto dancing which strengthened his determination to win._

 _Once Aiko Maeda explained the exact location, he went to the spot his new student frequented. She gave him a photo reference and a familiar hang out that delinquents hung around._ _Nostalgia came upon him, he remembered hanging around these parts with old friends. Ditching class, smoking anywhere they pleased, going against anyone who stepped on their fun._

 _It never failed to surprise him when parents signed kids up to his class without them knowing. The reluctance of those students gave him extra money without the student. In all honesty, he felt bad in keeping the money. Once the student failed to attend one lesson, he gave them a chance to explain themselves._

 _He spotted the red beanie without much trouble. Atsushi sat in the middle of a bleach blond and another with a high messy ponytail. "Atsushi Maeda." Hayabusa stopped a good distance from the trio, his arms crossed over his chest. He stood his ground, connecting eyes with Atsushi. "You missed your lesson."_

 _"Who?" Mario hit his palm when he remembered. "Ah, Acchan."_

 _"I actually forgot that was your name." Kenken snickered. "Only your parents use it. What lessons are you taking bud? Why didn't you tell us?"_

 _"I don't know." Atsushi turned to Hayabusa, he blew out a line of smoke. "What lessons?"_

 _"I'm Hayabusa Shou. Tango instructor and retired dance champion. Your name is in my roster."_

 _Atsushi narrowed his eyes, he got into a crouching position. "So? I didn't sign up for anything. Whoever signed me up was playing a joke on you or something. How'd you know where to find me?"_

 _Hayabusa cracked his knuckles into his palm. "Before you think of running off, your mother already paid for three months of classes. She called me to collect you when she found out you ditched. You're wasting your mother's hard earned money with this stunt."_

 _"What?!" Atsushi shot up straight and snapped at him. "I won't take a step into your sissy ass class. I don't know what my mom told you but I'm not going to go to your lessons. Ma wasted her money. Take it and leave me alone."_

 _Hayabusa eyebrow twitched. "You're testing my patience."_

 _"Like I give a_ — _"Atsushi's eyes widened at the speed Hayabusa displayed when he charged at him. Hayabusa grasped his arm, twirled him around and slammed him onto the ground._ _Atsushi struggled in removing himself from Hayabusa's hold, he hid this shame through a weak attempt at bravado. "L-Let me go old man!"_

 _Kenken and Mario stood up to help but a glare from Hayabusa stopped them cold. A shiver crawled up their spine. The intent of no mercy showed through Hayabusa's eyes and posture._

 _Hayabusa tightened his grip, Atsushi hitched his breath in pain. "Didn't think a dancer could overpower you?" He received a defiant glare but the struggles ceased. "8823 doesn't take shit from anyone. Do you understand?"_

 _Atsushi's eyes widened in recognition. "Y-You are **him**?" _

_Mario piped up in shock. "I heard you went to prison."_

 _Kenken added in. "Yeah that's what I heard too. The other was knocking up some chick and working."_

 _"A kid? Nope, sorry to disappoint." Hayabusa smirked. "I left my old life behind after getting into the tango scene. I offer my class to anyone, even the kids I used to overshadow back in high school." He pressed Atsushi even more into the ground. "Now Maeda...are you going to cooperate or not? Who knows? You might even enjoy dancing the tango."_

 _To salvage his wounded pride, he conceded in defeat. "I guess..not like I'll be any good at it."_

 _"Great." Hayabusa released Atsushi from his hold and pulled him up from the floor. He showed no strain from his muscles, impressing the trio. "Classes start at four. Depending on the day, my classes pass the two hour mark." He patted Atsushi's chest with his fist. "Don't you **dare** miss another one of **my** classes again. Got it?"_

 _"Yeah! Got it." Atsushi nodded his head, he shared an amazed expression with his friends._

 _"Before I forget," Hayabusa told him. "Bring sweatpants or tights. You're not dancing in skinny or baggy jeans." Atsushi grimaced, he readied himself to argue when Hayabusa stopped him. "I'll give you one of the tightest tights I have in retaliation if you fail to comply. I'll even force you to change into them in front of the class. Don't test me."_

 _In self preservation, Atsushi kept his mouth shut._

 _Kenken and Mario burst into laughter._

* * *

Through the high beat music, Fukase scrutinized the newest partner for his champion. His nails dug crescent moon shaped marks into his arm. He despised having to admit that he made an error in picking this girl for Sakamoto. His school produced the best and brightest. These sudden flops did a number on his respected record of perfection. His temper rose up. The anger showed through his callous words. No use exploding when it did nothing more than scare them.

Juri Ouka's previous partner, paled against her swift and sharp dancing. She rose up through the ranks and seemed perfect enough to stand next to Sakamoto. He pulled her aside and handed her a new training template for her. Once she landed in Sakamoto's arms, she lost her sense of control and stumbled through the easiest steps. She deescalated from her bright start into a love sick fool.

The elevated glorification of Sakamoto worked against him. His perfect features and talent in dancing made him a prime partner for starry-eyed fans. Some held no talent to stand next to Sakamoto in the first place. His last name brought people who wanted nothing more than the fame from the association alone.

All in all, Fukase grew tired of having to repeat the same critiques again.

"Juri you missed the step again! Did you not practice when you returned home? The intermediate students have grasped this concept down!" Fukase commented. "Straighten up and restart! Replay the music! Again!"

Juri's hands gripped her partner's shoulders, she gritted her teeth. The surrounding envious girls giggled from her reprimand. She saw the smugness of her current dilemma, none of them hid their satisfaction. Fukase did nothing to quiet them. From where he stood, she saw his amusement at her discomfort and irritation.

Letting go of Sakamoto, she backed away from him. "I-I'm so sorry." She apologized to Sakamoto, avoiding his gaze. "I don't know what's wrong with me today."

"It's quite alright." Sakamoto bowed, the girls cooed at his gentleness. "We all have our bad days. Shall we continue?"

Juri found it hard to believe that Sakamoto had any bad days. She watched him go through his practices, showing no strain or breaking a sweat. He accomplished the moves way faster than the rest of them. His champion parents added another layer of talent into him. Elevating him over the rest of their class. No wonder Fukase spent a lot of his time on him.

The rest of them could only dream of developing such qualities.

She nodded her head regardless of her thoughts. "Sure. Let's start this again." They resumed their original pose and danced the routine. Less mistakes happened this time around but the tension remained in the room.

Fukase coughed into his hand, gaining Sakamoto's attention. "That's enough. Sakamoto, we have to talk."

"Yes, Fukase-san. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Ouka-san." Sakamoto left Juri alone to the glaring eyes of the other girls.

* * *

Standing in front of Fukase's desk, Juri fiddled with the ends of her sweater. She tried not to buckle from the tense atmosphere. His drumming nails echoed throughout the room. Fukase warned her about getting in the way of Sakamoto's practices. She heard the same words whenever a new person entered into a partnership with Sakamoto. Male or female. Talent took precedence over the gender of the person dancing with Sakamoto.

The moment Fukase offered her a partnership with Sakamoto, she boasted about her success to the other dancers. She relished in having them envious of her. She remembered being on the outside looking in. Her own nasty comments on the last girl who replaced Aina. The dancers in Fukase's dance studio waited for the chance for the new partner to slip up. Giving them a chance to slide in to fill in the spot. Having opportunities handed to them due to the association.

Her thoughts of grandeur were far beyond her reach. Ideals and

Throughout the years, Juri heard stories of Fukase ruining careers. Different levels in the circuit. Some petrified in having their stories leaked to the press. She thought these people retold these stories to scare her off. Their own failures ended their careers not through mere gossip. Fukase's dance academy ranked high in the spectrum. He developed award winners and they went off to win multiple competitions.

Standing in front of him, she realized the truth in their words. Fukase spared no time in cutting off the students that wasted his time. She saw it first hand, fascinated in Fukase's cutthroat methods. He silenced those he dismissed, keeping an ear out to the gossip blogs in the dance scene. One word from him and dancers lost their careers due to his influence

She assumed he valued her above the rest of the discarded partners. No. She filled a spot. A speckle in the spectrum of Fukase's vision. His continuous comments brought a realization on her. He grew tired of testing her, picking her apart.

Fukase lit up a cigarette, making Juri wrinkle her nose at the smell. "Sakamoto has no need for you anymore." He blew a line of smoke in her direction, not caring about her disgust.

Once the smoke cleared, she processed his words. "W-What did you say?"

"I suggest attaining another partner. You see, I have spoken to him about this in detail and he sees my vision. I'll find another one to match up with him. No hard feelings, right?" Fukase smiled, his voice left no room for argument.

Juri jerked a nod, she shivered from the intensity of his eyes. She always found them creepy. Borderline red and cold. "O-of course, I'll find someone new before the week is over." The illusion of grandeur with Sakamoto on her side shattered before her eyes. She didn't dare contradict Fukase.

" _Excellent._ "

* * *

 _Fukase observed the lesson at a fair enough distance. The instructor's old mentor invited him over to check up on the new promising talent. Boasting on landing the Sakamoto duo's only son under their wing. Curious, he made the journey, staying in the background. Making no attempt at revealing himself._

 _The instructor's commands and hand gestures aggravated his ears. He competed against this pompous know-it-all quite often and the man lost to him in each time. It brought a one-sided rivalry. Non-threatening and insignificant. He returned none of the sentiment. Not that it stopped him from addressing the man's many faults in front of certain company. His old coach ignored his antics, the awards he won shadowed anything else he did behind the scenes._

 _His connections and standing elevated his words over a talentless coach. He observed Sakamoto's attempts at hiding his frustration from his eyes. He smirked. Leaning back, he focused on Sakamoto's graceful form. A student wanting to go up in the scene jumped at the chance for a new coach to lead them in the right track. Knowing about the famous Sakamoto duo, they expected nothing but the best for their son._

 _Once the lesson ended, the coach left Sakamoto in the dance floor. Giving him no parting words nor any pointers on improvement. Fukase noticed several jarring areas, Sakamoto's chest heaved more than it should. Tiring him out faster on the dance floor. Sakamoto needed to run in the mornings to help out his cardio._

 _Making sure the coast was clear, Fukase approached Sakamoto and introduced himself. "A pleasure to meet you, I'm Fukase."_

 _"I'm Sakamoto_ — _" The screams of children running past the building cut him off. "My apologies, it's a pleasure to meet you as well."_

 _"Why do you tolerate him?"_

 _"Him?"_

 _"The guy who just left." Fukase drummed his fingers on his forearm. "He seems—neglectful of your talent—very dismissive."_

 _Sakamoto glanced back at Fukase, informing him. "Mother and father hired him for me. He's an old friend of theirs who stayed in the same circles. He promised to help me through my starting years."_

 _"It's not nice of him to lie to such a promising student. I'll have a talk with your parents. They will agree with letting me teach you once they see my trophies and certifications." Fukase showed an award winning smile, innocent and not intimidating. "You deserve a better teacher than someone who hinders your potential."_

 _"Hinders?"_

 _Fukase hid his glee well. "Yes. I have witnessed his performances. He skips warm ups and doesn't see the benefit of extra practices. Sloppy and disorganized. Flashy outfits disguise his meager attempts in going against his betters. How about it?"_

 _Sakamoto hesitated. "He's stayed with me throughout this season. My parents trust him..."_

 _"Just because he had one semi decent pair, doesn't mean he can elevate you." Fukase wagged his finger, tutting. "Take my advice to heart. I have beaten him every single time I have faced him. Quite a lousy streak_ — _wouldn't you say?"_

 _"I see." Sakamoto pushed up his glassed with his fingers. "I'll tell my parents on my request to switch into your tutelage. May I have your contact information?"_

* * *

Hayabusa entered through the threshold of his usual bar. He greeted the regulars with a wave and shut the door behind him. The volume of the music gave the customers a chance to talk without raising their voices. A relaxed atmosphere to de-stress on the struggles out of the outside world. Running a dance school brought him enough stress where an alcoholic drink with good company rose his spirits. He could always drink at home but he lived alone. No brothers to drunkenly sing karaoke or his father sleeping on his couch.

At least in the bar, he got a semblance of activity surrounding him. He knew his limit quite well and cut himself off before walking back home. He frequented this bar in particular due to the short distance from his apartment complex. Saved him money from having to call a taxi to take him home. The walk helped him strengthen the muscles in his bad leg. His doctor advised him on light cardio work in the gym. These small walks fulfilled his exercise.

As he neared the counter, he saw a familiar figure blowing out a line of smoke. At least, he thought he recognized the person from somewhere. Daring himself to some social interaction, he got closer, wanting to catch the glimpse of the man's face. His usual smile tipped down when he saw the man's profile. Clear as day. His rival-who-kissed-decent-okay-he-kissed-amazingly-well, sat in his view of vision.

"Oh _c'mon_ ," Hayabusa gritted his teeth, hard enough that he almost bit through his cigarette. "What the hell is he doing here?" He attempted a swift retreat until Fukase turned and smirked in his direction. It always seemed like Fukase knew whenever he got close to him. "Ugh."

"Ah, Hayabusa." Fukase's slippery voice traveled to Hayabusa's ears. "No need to leave on my account. Come sit down. I'll order you a drink. My treat." He patted the seat right beside him.

Hayabusa convinced himself on tolerating Fukase's company for that drink. "Fine." He sat down in the seat on the other side of Fukase out of spite. "Out of all the bars in this city—"

Fukase drawled. "I'm doing just fine, thank you. How are you doing, Hayabusa? Anything new?" Hayabusa gained the attention of the bartender and ordered his drink. "Don't you dare ignore me." Hayabusa waited for his drink and puffed at his cigarette. " _Shou._ "

The bartender placed his whiskey onto the table.

"Alright, alright," Hayabusa sipped his drink, he gave Fukase a nasty look due to the usage of his name. "What do you want?"

Fukase tenderly smiled. "Who says I want anything? Maybe I want your company. We haven't seen each other in almost two years."

"Doubt it." Hayabusa gulped more of his alcohol, his throat and chest warmed up. "Fess up."

Fukase's eyes gleamed. "You always see through my bullshit. Very well. Give me one of your students."

"You want one of mine?" Hayabusa blew a line of smoke into the air. "Why? You boasted your newest prodigy during our last encounter. A new award winning dancer. Doesn't make mistakes in any of his routines. Regretting that boasting shit?"

"Nope. He's perfect. Considering the legacy his parents left behind, I expected nothing less." He swirled his whiskey before sipping. "His parents were an award winning dance couple. They retired after the birth of their son and lead him into this path. He learned from the best and I've molded his image to better heights."

Hayabusa rolled his eyes, Fukase loved hearing himself talk. He tapped his cigarette into the ash tray. " _And?_ Your point? Get on with it."

"Sakamoto's technical movements continue to jar with my second best dancer. He needs someone to push him out of the safe zone. Get him to feel the true art of dancing." Fukase licked his lips, setting the glass onto the coaster, he continued. "Sakamoto's last competition ended in disaster. Don't get me wrong, Aina was spectacular but they clashed in pivotal moments. I _hinted_ at a new venture in the music industry. Her manager saw a bright opportunity to bring in more money."

"Pft, I'm sure you payed her manager to pull her out before she embarrassed your studio again." Hayabusa gulped down his whiskey, warming his throat and chest. "I don't understand what you mean by disaster. They almost got a perfect score and got high compliments from the judges."

"Complimenting me? How sweet of you." Fukase leaned close to Hayabusa's face.

"I was complimenting Aina and Sakamoto, not you." Scrunching his nose from their closeness, Hayabusa scooted away on his seat. "I'm not pushing one of my students into your grasp. You'll ruin them."

Fukase sighed. "Ah—I'm not a horrible teacher. My consistent list of award winning pupils argues against your claim. I don't train time wasters."

"In other words, those who pay you a substantial amount of money for your methods." Hayabusa snuffed out his cigarette. "Why should I grant your request? Give me one good reason."

"You owe me." Fukase smirked, he reached out his hand and played with a strand of Hayabusa's bangs. "I covered your ass when your partner got herself knocked up months before the main competition in Argentina."

Hayabusa narrowed his eyes. "You're using your big favor on a partner for your star? Odd. I was so sure you'd want something much bigger."

Fukase used the back of his fingers to caress his cheek. "Hmm? What did you think I would use my favor on? A date? A kiss?"

Hayabusa observed Fukase before turned his attention back on his drink, "Not even close. You don't need to use a favor for those things." He diverted the tide of their conversation. "One problem. My main star is a guy."

Fukase took back his hand and drank his whiskey. "The rules in competitions are lax now. There are more same sex pairs popping up in the circuit. It's more common overseas. Gender is no problem."

"This is perfect timing for them." Hayabusa mused. "I'm sure they will switch around as the lead."

"Good. I'll send word to my student." Fukase stood up and placed a wad of bills on the counter. "We'll be in touch." He walked off, leaving Hayabusa gaping behind in his seat.

Hayabusa shouted after him. "I never said yes!"

* * *

Hayabusa slumped against his plush seat. The craving for a cigarette heightened up from the stress. Every attempt he made in finding Atsushi a partner had turned into failure. His one chance came with Fukase's student and hated having to depend on him. Fukase appeared back into his life in the right moment. Convenient timing. He rubbed his eyes and groaned out loud.

He thought Fukase forgot about the favor he owed him. In fact, he hoped Fukase never cashed it in. He hated having to owe the man anything. Back in his younger years, he remembered Fukase's method of extorting the favors out of people. Making others weary of asking Fukase for any help. The rumor spread around but it didn't stop people from taking a chance.

Fukase loved teasing him. He remembered the taunts as well as his compliments. His tender smile after they shared a brief kiss. Sometimes, it lead onto more—exploration in the back of the locker room. His skin burned in the places he kissed and bit. He never fooled himself into thinking Fukase cared for anything or anyone. The man saw anyone as a game or a conquest.

To his overall confusion, Fukase showed fits of jealousy when he learned of his last date. A handsome Spainiard he met during his stint in Barcelona. He stayed in Japan on vacation to further their relationship. Fukase's sneering comments ceased after the guy dropped him after his accident.

Fukase lent him an outlet for his anger and frustration. His accident left him unable to dance for long periods of time. Rumors spread fast and his sort-of-ex elevated as number two in the ranks. He missed the fury growing in his those glowing red eyes.

He heard around the grapevine that his ex's reputation went down the tubes. Having long suspected that Fukase spread the misdeeds, he kept silent about it. No way condoning his powers of persuasion.

Seeing him again brought back old feelings he tried to repress.

"I never received a call to set up our appointment."

Hayabusa straightened up, turning his gaze toward the door. "Fukase, what the hell are you doing here?"

Fukase closed the door behind him. "A week has passed since our encounter at the bar. You know as well as I do that I never changed my number. What's the hold up? The competition is on the horizon and we need to train our students." He leaned against the door. "Shou, I'm waiting. _Tick tock_."

Feeling trapped, Hayabusa snapped to get him to leave him alone. "Fine, I'll call him. Just leave before anyone else sees you."

Fukase went up to Hayabusa's desk with a grin. "Glad you see it my way." He ripped up a piece of paper from Hayabusa's desk and wrote down the address. "I moved my studio into a different building. The old one had leaky ceilings which screwed up the wooden flooring." He placed the paper in Hayabusa's hand, his touch lingering for a moment longer. "Tell him not to be late."

Hayabusa rolled his eyes, "He knows better than to keep people waiting. He's never late. I'll even come earlier to _assess_ your student for myself. Now, _shoo_. I won't have my students question why you're here."

Fukase leaned forward. "Why? Everyone knows that we have a—close relationship. Unless, my presence flusters and inconveniences you."

"You wish." Hayabusa lifted himself up from his chair.

"Give me your student's name." Fukase leaned back. "I'd like to research him a bit before our meeting."

Hayabusa answered. "Atsushi Maeda. Look, I'll hand you the tapes of his performances. Save you the trouble. A lot of his stuff has not gone up on the net."

Fukase placed a hand on Hayabusa's shoulder, Hayabusa shivered. "How kind of you. Will you hand them to me now or later?"

Hayabusa shrugged off Fukase's hand. "Now. Be right back."

* * *

Atsushi read the address given to him and compared it to the sign. The numbers matched up to the massive building in front of him. He tipped his head back and his neck strained from trying to see to the top. He wore his usual sweat pants and tank top combo. He carried his dancing shoes and comfortable socks in his backpack, no use wearing them out in public. Half the time, he went in flip flops to his practices and switched his footwear after he warmed up.

He entered the building. In the lobby, he saw a large clock presenting the time. His eyes widened the limited space he had before he was considered late. He checked around for the elevators and found the area. Almost running, he saw a tall man stepping inside the last elevator.

"Hey! Hold the elevator!" Atsushi bolted forward and the person inside held it open for him. He managed to get inside and regained his breath. "Thanks!" He got a better look at the guy and his heart skipped a beat.

The man smiled light. "It's not a problem. Glad to help you. Now, which floor are you going?" Atsushi uttered it out. "Ah, so it's the same one as mine. Saves us the trouble of stopping in different floors." He pressed the button and elevator moved up.

Atsushi tried not to ogle at the perfect looking man standing beside him. This never happened before. From all the good looking before he saw in the tango scene, none of them gave him this sort of reaction. Gulping, he turned his attention back onto his phone. He forgot to change his wallpaper from his old one. A photo of him during one of his competitions. He presented his first place trophy and put up a peace sign while his parents beamed, pride showed through their smiles.

"Is that you?"

Atsushi turned his attention from his phone toward Sakamoto. "Y—Yes."

"I see,"

After those two words, silence permeated the elevator.

Atsushi commented. "Are you meeting someone in the floor we're both going to?" He cringed at his stupid question, he averted his eyes and stared at the wall.

Sakamoto tipped his head up and down. "Yes, I'm meeting my instructor here." He pushed up his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Leaving you as my new partner or his instructor."

Atsushi rubbed the back of his neck. "Knowing Hayabusa, he's already here, wanting to pounce on me for being late." He put out his hand, smiling real big. "I'm Maeda Atsushi but, you can call me Acchan. Almost everyone calls me that name. The only people who call me Atsushi are my parents." Sakamoto shook his hand. "What's yours?"

"Sakamoto—" The elevator stopped and a loud bell interrupted Sakamoto.

Once the doors opened, they heard Hayabusa yell out. "That better be you in that elevator, Acchan! I'm not about to make up excuses if you were late! You'd make me look bad." Atsushi laughed nervously as Hayabusa made his appearance. "Good. Hurry up and get settled. Warm up real well too. I don't want you cramping up."

"Alright, alright. Damn, you nag more than my mother."

Hayabusa crackled his knuckles. "Did you say anything to me, brat?"

"N-Nothing." Atsushi hurried out and went toward a free area near a window.

Hayabusa huffed, staring at Atsushi with fondness. "Brat." He turned toward Sakamoto, inspecting him. "You must be Fukase's student, you're taller than I expected. Alright then, go and warm up with Acchan. I'll need to access you as well before we continue on with this partnership."

Sakamoto bowed. "It's no problem. Thank you for having me." He stepped out the elevator and met up with Fukase. They chatted for a moment before he went toward Atsushi and began his warm ups.

* * *

Hayabusa handed Fukase a bottle of water. Fukase sent him a genuine smile and unscrewed it before taking gulps. They watched their students do their warm ups. Whispering comments to each other, their eyes never strayed from Sakamoto and Atsushi. Some differences showed in between the both of them. From their stretches to their movements. Sakamoto showed his swift perfect moves while Atsushi's passion showed in his twists and turns.

Hayabusa whistled, giving the pair a thumbs up. Fukase didn't jest when he claimed his student exceeded expectations. "Good job boys! Keep it up! Get that heart pumping!"

Atsushi waved, grinning while passing them on his slight jog around the studio. Seeing that he warmed up enough, Atsushi went to his backpack, leaving Sakamoto alone. Sakamoto nodded with a slight quirk of the lips, gliding along the dance floor. He went into more difficult moves,

Impressed at Hayabusa's student, Fukase nodded his head. Atsushi still showed kinks but he caught them and moved past them. A student who learned from his own mistakes. In the video Hayabusa gave him, instructor and student bickered but Atsushi implemented Hayabusa's advice. Hayabusa knew how to the pick the ones who meshed with his own dancing style.

One thing struck out to him, Atsushi's sandals.

Fukase wrinkled his nose, he muttered into Hayabusa's ear. "Don't tell me he dances in flip flops? He'll twist an ankle before he tries any maneuvers. He fast ran in those things. Are you _joking_ , Shou?" Almost sensing Fukase's comment, Atsushi waved his dancing shoes at their direction, giving him a smug smirk. "Cheeky little—"

Hayabusa leaned back, cutting Fukase before he finished his sentence. "I told you, he's my best student. He knows better than to dance without the proper footwear. I've taught him well. He only wears sandals when he warms up."

Fukase shrugged his shoulders. "Just don't have him twisting his ankle and we're fine. Having to replace another partner for Sakamoto has become tedious work. I have to say...he's not bad."

"What's this?" Hayabusa nudged Fukase's side. "You're complimenting one of my students?"

Fukase smirked. "Maybe. You picked well. I expected nothing less from you."

"Good to know I'm not disappointing you." He patted Fukase's cheek, Fukase's eyes glinted. "Underestimating me was one of your faults." He clapped his hands, gaining Sakamoto and Atsushi's attention. "Acchan! Get into formation!"

Fukase instructed Sakamoto. "Sakamoto, you lead first, then we'll let Maeda have his turn. No music this time."

"Yes, Fukase-san." Sakamoto said.

Atsushi went toward Sakamoto and stared up at him. "Think you can handle me?"

Sakamoto brushed his bangs to the side. "I'm sure."

They went into position. Holding hands, Atsushi placed a hand on Sakamoto's shoulder, Sakamoto's went onto Atsushi's waist. After Hayabusa clapped his hands again, they began moving. Going into a 8-step basic, they got a feel for each other. After a few turns, they went into more complicated poses. Atsushi grinned, letting himself flow along with the dance. He found himself enjoying being on the other side for once.

Hearing no critiques, they assumed their instructors got them to dance to get a feel for their execution of their movements. Seeing the connection and mesh up of different personalities. Judging them before solidifying to this partnership.

"Maeda-san?" Sakamoto muttered. "After a couple of turns, are you ready to switch into the lead?"

"I thought I told you to call me Acchan." Atsushi stuck out his tongue, Sakamoto's lips quirked up. He leaned forward, their chest brushed against each other. "None of this Maeda-san business. And yes, I'll take my turn in a little bit. Try not to lose breath before we're finished."

"Alright." Sakamoto pulled Atsushi's leg up the length of his own leg. "Atsushi-san."

Atsushi scowled. "You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" They transitioned into a front boleo before he entering a back boleo. "Fine, _Sakamoto_."

Their first practice went off much problems on Atsushi's end. He left feeling pumped up and relieved on having a partner.

Sakamoto's eyes boggled during certain points of Atsushi's turn to lead. He saw constant mistakes but Atsushi made up for it through his visible love of dance.

* * *

Atsushi finished his final stretch of the night before Aiko entered the living room. They shared smiles. She left him a large glass of warm water with lemon on the table. Observing him, she saw a vast difference from the boy who found dancing for sissies to a man who loved the sport. A majority of his old friends supported Atsushi. She sat next to them as they screamed Atsushi's name and held up signs.

They yelled their lungs out. Making their surrounding people jump at the volume of their voices. Their presence made Atsushi more confident in getting better in his scale in the world of tango. Despite Hayabusa's cool exterior, she caught him yelling at the top of his lungs. His insults held no malice, they were actually encouraging in a way.

Throughout the years, Hayabusa turned into a dear family friend. They interchanged which place they went to for the holidays every single year. Sometimes, Hayabusa's family came over to their apartment due to the space. It depended on their schedules and the holiday they managed to align.

She wondered about extending an invitation to Atsushi's new partner. Find out about how he entered the tango scene. Hayabusa told her that this time around, Atsushi's partner was a man. He didn't give out a name but he had other things to do. He must have forgotten to tell her.

Aiko inquired. "Done stretching for the night?"

"Yeah," Atsushi reached his hands up and leaned back, his bones popped. "Pops helped me out a little bit before he went to take his bath."

Aiko muttered. "He better not use all the hot water before I get back home." She leaned against the sofa Atsushi moved before he stretched his body out. "Hayabusa gave me the good news. Congrats, kid. Took you long enough to get to this point. All you needed was a good partner sticking at your side."

Atsushi grinned up at her. "This new guy seems pretty good. Hayabusa commented how he perfected the poses at the end of the moves. It seems a bit too much for me. He kept up with me just like Yagi. He doesn't lose his breath easily either."

"Oh no, you made him keep up with your fast pace." Aiko shook her head, she sighed in amusement. "Atsushi, you're going to run this one out before you even enter a competition. You're faster than the usual person."

"Nah." Atsushi waved it off. "His instructor was impressed that I didn't grow tired so fast. See? Running from other punks back in high school gave me the stamina for dancing."

Aiko rolled her eyes, "That's nothing to be proud of Atsushi." She smacked his shoulder and ruffled his sweaty hair. "Soak in the tub with bath salts. You don't need to wake up with aching muscles in the morning."

"Yes, ma."

* * *

Sakamoto sat down beside Kubota, placing a tray of drinks and snacks on the table. Kubota smiled at him, he bounced in excitement in seeing his newer videos. He observed his long time friend from the corner of his eyes. Kubota loosened his tie and set his blazer aside. His frame slimmed a bit from all the running around for his office job but he still retained his pudgy body.

Months passed since he last spent time with Kubota. On their last outing, they went to the temples at New Years. Hurrying through the crowd, reminiscing their brief time in high school. He got pulled out due to his parents insistent in home schooling. Kubota remained one of the few people who saw him as a person—not the son of the Sakamoto duo. These moments of free time were either spent in their respective homes or going for a nice dinner.

Kubota's presence brightened up his large home. His one true guest that he invited into his room. Inside his state of loneliness. He never expressed it but Kubota always seemed to sense his change of moods. The emptiness and silence of this place dampened his spirits. Without his parents hosting parties, the house felt vacant. In front of their friends, they pulled him aside to boast about his accomplishments.

Their brief presence in between trips made him distant toward them.

Kubota waited for his confirmation before he pressed play. Setting the remote aside, he asked. "Is this from your last competition?"

Sakamoto informed him. "Yes, this is the last one before I was paired up with this current one."

" _Another_ one?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand how you end up with a new partner every couple of months." Kubota sighed. "This girl made a break in the scene from what you told me. Fukase-san doesn't teach those he doesn't find worthy."

Sakamoto placed his hands on his lap. "I know. It's frustrating—but I'm sure this new guy will manage. He jumps into the new steps without any fear. Almost like—he was made for dancing the tango."

"Oh." Kubota reached for his glass of iced tea and sipped. "Don't think too hard about it. A lot of people have natural talent like you. Tell me, did he know about you?"

"Me?"

"Your _last name_ , Sakamoto-kun."

It dawned on Sakamoto, Atsushi didn't react to his name. "No. He didn't."

"That's a good sign. He won't swoon into your arms like the others." Once the music started playing on the video, Kubota's attention went onto the tv.

Watching the video, Kubota's eyes followed Sakamoto as he danced. He evaluated Sakamoto's movements and poses. Sure, he held no _true_ opinion about dancing. Anytime he saw couples dancing the tango, waltz, etc, he was left in awe. He barely remembered the infinite moves or the proper way of executing them but—Sakamoto trusted him.

Taking long sips, he noticed Sakamoto carried most of the performance. Sakamoto's partner tripped on her feet but got saved when Sakamoto pressed her to his body. Making it seem that they went into this position on purpose. Sakamoto's eyes analyzed her and picked up any mistakes before she committed them. Too bad. He saw her performances before Sakamoto, she seemed flawless.

Once the video ended, Kubota informed Sakamoto. "You're doing a lot better in distributing your breath. You don't seem tired at the end of the performances anymore."

Sakamoto carded his fingers through his hair, he faced Kubota. "I see. Should I take more time on the treadmill? My new partner seems limitless on his breathing."

Kubota shook his head. "That's not what I meant. Sakamoto-kun, you've improved dramatically over the least few years. There's no need to hurry." He sipped his iced tea, smiling at the added peach flavor. "This tea is delicious. Thank you so much."

* * *

Atsushi checked the studio and found none of their instructors. "Hayabusa and Fukase are not here today? I thought they would be start giving us an idea on the choreography this time." He tossed his backpack against the wall and let out a yawn.

Sakamoto shook his head, he informed him. "No. Fukase-san sent me a message and told me to continue our practice without him. I'm not so sure about Hayabusa-san. Didn't he tell you anything?"

Atsushi checked his phone and cringed at the bombarded messages he received. "Yeah...I'm not listening to those. I don't need to hear them to know what he's telling me." He shuffled off his jacket and placed it on the floor alongside his backpack. Putting his phone in his pocket, he stretched his arms above his head. "Alright, should we get started."

"Of course, I'll wait right here. I already warmed up before you arrived." Sakamoto informed him as Atsushi went through his usual warm-up. "You're not sore?"

Atsushi bent one knee and stretched the other leg behind him. "Nope. I tend to stretch out when I get home. Hayabusa got me into yoga and sometimes my ma does it with me. My pops is too tense to try it himself. He thinks he'll break his back or something."

Sakamoto rolled his shoulders forward and backwards. "I have fallen out of practicing yoga. Learning to perfect the moves has taken precedence."

Atsushi began jogging in place. "You really shouldn't have done that. Trust me, it helps me relax in the mornings when I wake up. I tend to get anxiety before performances so it helps." Ten minutes passed and Atsushi pumped his fist. "Alright, I'm ready! Are you leading first or me?"

"I will." Sakamoto told him.

"Wait." Atsushi shifted through his cellphone and raised it to full volume. "I found a good song to accompany our practice for today. A classic but we have to start practicing with music. This way, we can time it with the beat of the song."

"Wonderful idea, Atsushi-san."

"It's _Santa Maria._ " Atsushi pressed start, giving them a few seconds to get into position. He practically ran into Sakamoto's arms and they got into the starting position. "Ready?"

Sakamoto nodded his head.

At the first note of the song, they began moving. Sakamoto straightened himself up, they gliding along with each other in the usual formation. Letting themselves fall into the cues of the notes. It went along just fine.

Atsushi twirled with enthusiasm, going back into Sakamoto's arms, he was dipped. His left arm, waved gracefully over his head. Sakamoto lifted him up, their chests touched before they side stepped. Sakamoto and Atsushi went into a reverse embrace, going into amagues and caresses. Variances of different leg movements as they switched between them.

Atsushi broke from the trance of the song when he felt Sakamoto's eyes scrutinizing every detail. His stiffening body and stone face showed none of the emotions inside Sakamoto's body. Hayabusa always told him that the face expressed the intent in the song. Without this aspect, their combined dance shared no true value.

Atsushi grew annoyed as he exclaimed. "Sakamoto! _Stop!"_

Sakamoto raised a brow, he rested his hands on Atsushi's waist as they came to a complete stop. "Is there an issue?"

"Hell yes!" Atsushi uttered, he listed off what he thought. "You're too stiff. Loosen up a little, better yet, lose yourself into the music. It's not like you're in front of the judges or our teachers. You don't have to put up a front with me."

"Your dancing is spastic and unpredictable. Points will get taken from the score due to sloppiness." Sakamoto stared down into Atsushi's furious face. "Getting the technique down takes priority."

" _Bullshit._ I've won competitions with my dance moves. I have gotten accolades from the judges." Atsushi hissed out. "What the fuck happened? I thought we had an understand here!"

Sakamoto told him. "I held back my tongue in our last meeting due to the evaluation. Your leading jars with your partner."

Atsushi glared at him, he poked Sakamoto's chest. "I'm swift and fast. Something your instructor found impressive."

"Yet, it doesn't cover up these little mistakes popping up during your performance." Sakamoto informed him in a cool tone. "No need to get agitated, I simply wanted to tell you before you grow accustomed to falling into those mistakes."

Atsushi closed his eyes, taking a few steps back, he breathed through his nose. Hayabusa taught him great breathing exercises to control his temper. The old Acchan would have punched Sakamoto in the face. Yelled at the top of his lungs. Caring little about propriety.

That was the old Acchan, the new Acchan controlled himself.

"You know what, we'll meet again on another time." Atsushi removed himself from the situation, Grabbing his stuff, he went toward the door. "I'm not about get insulted by some robot pretty boy like you."

Sakamoto heard the elevator ding and the doors closing, signifying Atsushi's Maeda's departure from the studio.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I ended up naming Hayabusa's father, Hiroshi, and the unnamed brother, Akio. Man I'd like to finish this sooner than later lmao_

 _-Lucicelo_

* * *

Part 2

Complete silence welcomed Sakamoto when he stepped back into his home. Shuffling his bag over his shoulder, he checked around the front yard. Clean and perfect. A wave of panic went through him. He tried to pin point the outline of the birdhouse he made in the previous week. A simple hobby he picked up during his high school years. It transcended into his adulthood and he enjoyed completing something with his hands. Once his eyes landed on the tree, he saw nothing in between the branches.

Gritting his teeth, he tore his eyes away from the tree. Poor birds. Try as he might, his own additions outside of his bedroom went missing or discarded. Old childhood art projects disappeared once he returned home from school. The gardeners and maids followed his parents orders but just once...he wanted their home to resemble the typical homes around their block.

He shut the door behind him where the smell of lemon cleaner permeated the air. He stopped himself from sneezing through placing a hand under his nose. Sniffling, he closed the door behind him. He shuffled out of his shiny black shoes and his well pressed coat. He placed them in the designated places before he stepped further into the home. He pressed the main light, bringing in light to the once pitch black hallway.

He glided past the main family portrait. One where he stood on his mother's right side, while his father designated the left. All three of them wore their best clothing and a professional photographer snapped the photo. The last one taken in his middle school years before they dropped the annual photo. He attempted to convince them on taking a new photo to replace the outdated one. A ruse to bring them together again. They left for England on an extended amount of time. Their stay lasted years.

Their packed schedules left little room for anything else.

No time to interact with their own child.

Simply requesting reports at the end of the month.

He hurried through the hallways, bitterness crawled out of the recesses of his mind. Ensnaring his controlled demeanor. The echoing of his footsteps bounced off the walls. His heartbeat pounded loud, almost blocking his hearing. Tortuous and aggravating. The hallway to his room dragged on further and further. How dare...

 _I'm not about get insulted by some robot pretty boy like you._

He geared himself into a fluid stop. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. Using the back of his hand to push them up, he gulped in shaky breaths. Trying to regain control of his sanity.

Maeda Atsushi's furious words broke through his thoughts.

He remembered Atsushi's indignant face, the tenseness of his shoulders, a flicker of fury in his eyes. A picture of a whirlwind charging without stopping in sight.

None of his past partners talked back to him or showed any emotion other than elation. They followed his every word and took meticulous care in saying nothing offensive. He knew of the idolization placed on him. His last name and standing in Fukase's school, doomed him from the start.

The stars in Fukase's students eyes made him uncomfortable.

The disappointment in Atsushi's eyes made him feel human.

Yet, he might have ruined a good partnership. His phrasing when critiquing Atsushi's movements backfired on him. From the first meeting, he noticed a raw potential in Atsushi, rivaling his own. He imagined the both of them going the distance in their careers and elevating above the competition. His phrasing

Rushing into his bedroom, he picked up his towel, leaving his usual sleeping clothes in his drawers. He grew comfortable walking around in only a towel in his home. The maid left for her home before he arrived on the clock. Removing his practice clothes, he put them in the hamper, and then entered the bathroom. His usual bath products lined the sink, picking the ones he desired.

Sakamoto turned on the tap before he squeezed his soap and rose scented oils into the bathtub. The rushing water created an immense amount of bubbles, thick enough to cover his entire body. On occasion, he lit up candles but felt lazy in going back into his bedroom and collecting them.

"Alone again." Sakamoto whispered, sinking into the warm bubble bath, he rubbed a soapy cloth onto his arms.

* * *

 _"First place winners! Narita Hana and Sakamoto_ — _"_ _The applause grew louder at the name familiar last name Sakamoto. "Thank you all for coming and have a good day!"_

 _She smiled big, using her free hand to wave at the audience. Strands of her curls framed the sides of her smiling face. Hana enjoyed the attention from the audience, she thrived from the win and approval from the masses. Her parents stood up from their seats, clapping hard and screaming her name. She turned to Sakamoto, addressing him before giggling in glee._

 _Sakamoto stood straight and stoic, his partner shook his shoulder to shake him from his reverie. He ignored her words in order to search for his parents throughout the crowd_ _. In his dismay, he found none of them in the front row seats. Disappointment washed over him. No tears prickled his eyes. He saw no use crying when they never came to see him. They saw none of the loneliness he felt whenever they hopped on the plane and went overseas._

 _Sighing, he let his partner lead him off the stage. She didn't notice his change of mood or anything else besides her own needs. He addressed the people who congratulated them with politeness. A small smile did wonders to deter someone from asking any deep questions._

 _Hana relinquished her hold on his arm. He watched her run off to her parents, their arms wrapped around her, kissing her cheeks. Showing her love and affection._

 _He tore his gaze away from the sight._

 _"Sakamoto-kun!"_

 _Sakamoto turned around, surprised at the sight of his old friend. He invited Kubota on different occasions but something always came up. Either the long distance or university prevented him from attending. This was the first time in months since he saw Kubota in person._

 _Kubota smiled big as he handed Sakamoto a small bouquet of flowers. Yellow roses. "Congrats on the win! Simply spectacular."_

 _Sakamoto held the flowers close to his nose and inhaled the aroma. The heaviness of not seeing his parents again lessened a bit. "Thank you for coming to see me, Kubota-san." Out of all his old classmates, Kubota remained his constant and most trusted friend._

 _Kubota patted his back, lingering a bit to provide support. It didn't take much for him to notice the downtrodden expression before he made himself known to his friend. "We should get something to drink. My treat. You look like you need a friend right now."_

 _Sakamoto's eyes widened a fraction, he didn't dare deny it. "Thank you."_

* * *

Atsushi, Kenken and Mario clinked their glasses together. Excess foam trickled down the sides of their mugs but none of them minded. Kenken slurped the sides while Mario wiped his own down with a napkin. Atsushi gulped his down, not caring that his shirt got wet from the excess liquid. He wore a jacket for the winds for later on in the night. They shared simultaneous grins before they dug into their meal.

"Any news to share with the group?" Mario slurped down his udon noodles, relishing the sauce he picked on his tongue. "I have nothing too big. Office is still the same. Aimi is getting better at pronouncing words."

Kenken poked his steak with a slight frown. "I'm too busy working to have anything happening to me. No dates. No pay raise. It's all shit."

"Hayabusa thinks I have a chance this year in my career. Remember how I hinted that I started training in my new set of routines? Hayabusa found a partner for me. I'm striving for one of the main competitions in Italy this time." Atsushi puffed out his chest, grinning at the awed faces.

" _Italy?_ " Kenken whistled, he bit into his tender steak. "Acchan, you're really striving for the big leagues. You're already trying to get out of the country on us. This will make it harder on us to get to the place. Try to get Hayabusa to record it so we can all watch it."

Mario nudged Atsushi with a grin. "Good for you! I remember you told me about the bigger competitions from overseas. When did Hayabusa find this girl?"

"Hayabusa found _him_ through an old friend of his."

"Him?" Mario and Kenken muttered.

Atsushi continued on. "He says old friend but...I'm sure he was an enemy at some point. I caught him leering at Hayabusa a few times. He sort of creeps me out to be honest. My partner is a total tight ass though. He has this technical way of dancing where one wayward move from me and he gets all high and mighty. Makes me want to punch his perfectly sculpted face."

Kenken bemoaned. "Too bad I care too much about working and having a clean record. I'd beat his ass for you as a favor. Then again, no one ever has to find out it was me. What's his name anyway?"

Atsushi smacked Kenken's shoulder. "I'm not giving you any info on him. I need him in working order for competitions. Hayabusa and his so called friend will come after you. Remember when Hayabusa collected me the first time?" Mario and Kenken shivered. "Kicking my partner's ass won't help me at all. I think I have to get used to him."

"It's amazing how much restraint you're showing, Acchan." Mario mentioned with a fond smile. "The old Acchan would have punched a guy out and asked questions afterwards. Ah the good old days."

Kenken grinned. "Don't fool yourself, that was all of us."

Mario wagged his finger. "Not like we can afford to behave like that anymore. Best to leave such reckless behavior to the young kids."

"Ugh, Mario you're making us sound old. What the hell man?" Kenken huffed. "I'm still young and spirited. I haven't been drowned out by adulthood."

"Speak for yourself, I'm not the one collapsing onto his bed after a long shift." Atsushi teased Kenken who tossed a napkin at his face. He addressed Mario. "I'm surprised you didn't bring your kid with you." Atsushi finished his drink and poured himself another glass. "You know we don't mind having her around with us. It's not like we're getting stinking drunk or anything."

Kenken nodded his head. "No trouble at all. She must take after her mama."

Mario smiled big, beaming at the thought of his little girl. "Yeah...my mom has her for the afternoon. My wife was more than happy to leave Aimi with her just to spend time out of the house. I'll bring her the next time we're meeting somewhere kid friendly."

* * *

Atsushi tapped his foot on the floor. The noise canceled out through the music playing in the speakers. He held his water bottle with one hand, his free one clenched into a fist. Gripping the bottom of his shirt. Watching Sakamoto taking Hayabusa and Fukase's dual instruction with ease brought a slight wave of inadequacy. Sakamoto transferred into the next move without stumbling, his glasses remained on the bridge of his nose.

It took him three or so tries before he managed to land a move. Way faster than his classmates. No one questioned his determination when he repeated the same pose. Eager to execute the pose and move onto the next one. He inspired many of the dancers to go over their limits. Hayabusa's dead glare did wonders to prompt their improvement.

At the sight of Hayabusa's impressed gaze, he felt a sense of dread clawing at his chest. His own teacher turned against him. The feeling lasted a moment before he stomped on these petty, immature thoughts. He witnessed Hayabusa complimenting other dancers throughout the years. His annoyance with his partner sparked this sudden crack in his mental walls.

His confidence didn't break easy. A compliment to other competitors didn't faze him. After all, he relished in Sakamoto's teacher giving him the proper respect for his stamina. He couldn't help the smug grin but, hunched his shoulders to hide the overall effect.

Hayabusa clapped Atsushi's back, startling him from his thoughts. "A gem isn't he? I have to say, Fukase does know when to spot the good ones. He does have that reputation in training the best in Japan."

Atsushi jabbed at him. "Oh? And you suck at picking good students?"

"Fuck no. I'm better than him. " Hayabusa grinned, he wrapped an arm around Atsushi's shoulders. "I got you on my side, don't I?"

Atsushi nudged him, he glanced back at Sakamoto executing a perfect pose. Again. "Stop trying to flatter me. I'm not going to run out on the dude. I have my own career to think about. Besides, he isn't so bad on the dance floor. I—"

"I caught the tension earlier." Atsushi stiffened, Hayabusa continued on, sighing. "I haven't said anything so far. You should know how to handle these spats on your own. Try not to punch the guy. That's all I ask."

"No promises."

* * *

Aina inspected her makeup through her heart shaped compact. She reapplied her lipstick. A nice shade of pink with a red undertone. She dabbed her lips with a tissue, puckered her lips, added on some more to her liking. Snapping her compact shut, she found nothing out of place in her appearance. Enough makeup to accentuate her natural beauty did wonders to her face. Her new hairstyle gained her more attention. The stylist for her girl group enjoyed working with her. Unlike some of the girls, she didn't fuss about when a qualified person dressed her.

Letting out a deep sigh, she resumed her walk toward the newest cafe on the block. Her new apartment complex settled in a populated area where businesses popped up every month. New clothing stores opened, giving her a new insight of the current fashions. This cafe claimed a cute ambiance and decent priced drinks.

A well built young man walked past her, gaining her attention as he reached for the handle of the door. Fluffing her hair, she batted her eyelashes, ready to speak with him. Once she got a better look at his profile, she placed a hand over her mouth in disbelief. Out of all the people to bump into. Her luck skyrocketed. She thought about her ex partner in recent weeks.

She missed having a conversation with a familiar face from her old life.

Aina piped up. "Sakamoto-kun?"

"Aina-san." Sakamoto nodded to her, he stepped back for her to walk through the door. "I heard of your latest accomplishments in _Nightingale_. To enter the music industry is a worthy endeavor. Your dancing has remained smooth and graceful."

Aina's cheeks pinked. "A—Ah, thank you, Sakamoto-kun." Despite their dissolved partnership, she still held affections for Sakamoto. She wondered who her old instructor Fukase placed in Sakamoto's strong arms. She couldn't help the twinge of jealousy at the thought. " _Nightingale_ has taken a big section of my life. It's a big change from the tango scene."

Sakamoto motioned to the table near the window. "Shall we sit down and continue on talking? Unless, you have somewhere else to be."

Aina shook her head, her curls bounced around. "Not at all! I have the day off today." She hurried to a seat and Sakamoto moved the seat back. "Thank you. You're always such a gentleman." Sakamoto sat down across from her.

A young lady went to their table and took their orders. She left to prepare their drinks as they continued on talking. Sakamoto heard more of her time in her idol group and Aina relished in Sakamoto's presence. The waitress returned with their drinks faster than they expected. Aina ordered an low fat sugar-free vanilla ice coffee while Sakamoto ordered green tea with lemon.

"I hope this isn't too forward of me to ask." Sakamoto motioned for her to continue as he squished the lemon into his tea. "Who's your partner now? I haven't heard much due to my newfound busy schedule."

"Maeda Atsushi."

Aina registered the name and she uttered out. "A man? I don't think I know him." Aina disguised her sigh of relief through sipping her iced coffee.

Sakamoto explained. "Fukase-san found him through an old acquaintance from his competitions days. I heard of his instructor, Shou Hayabusa, a champion tango dancer. I watched some of his performances before I met his student. He's a natural on the dance floor. His student is—passionate. He doesn't complain about stretching or warming up before we start."

Aina tilted her head. "I haven't seen many same sex partners around competitions. What made Fukase-san choose this guy?"

"The rules have bent throughout the years. I'm sure Fukase-san and Hayabusa-san looked through the rules before pairing us up." Sakamoto sipped his tea. "Fukase-san expressed the need for me to break out of my mold. I'm too—technical. My last partner's movements jarred with mine too much."

Aina huffed. "Sakamoto-kun, you're perfect! You don't need to change!" She used her straw to mix her drink to cool herself off. "I have to admit, we didn't connect well enough for the judges, but you're amazing. From an outsiders perspective, you need a partner up to your level. That's all you need."

Sakamoto said. "Thank you for your kind words. I'm sure Fukase-san is not purposely ruining his investment through this choice. Although, he gave me the option to quit and move onto another person. At this stage, it's unfavorable, the closeness of the first competition of the season is looming. I can't teach another person the choreography Fukase-san and Hayabusa-san agreed on."

Aina sighed. "I don't miss having Fukase harp on me over bending backwards on certain moves. I'm sure I didn't receive the full brunt of his wrath, not when my parents checked in on me all the time."

Sakamoto nodded along with her words but, found himself distracted.

* * *

An awkward quietness transcended between Sakamoto and Atsushi. Going through the motions of their dance, they cringed in their minds at the lack of passion. Their minds wandered into different territories. Avoiding making eye contact. In front of Fukase and Hayabusa, they behaved cordial and said nothing about the mistakes the other one did. It became apparent when Atsushi positioned himself for a jump and Sakamoto mistook the cue for a promenade. Atsushi tripped over Sakamoto's leg and fell onto the floor.

Sakamoto helped Atsushi onto his feet. Their commotion caught the eyes of their teachers. Both of them giving them slight glares, questions brimmed in their gazes. They remained silent, observing them for the duration of their practice. Once practice ended, Fukase pulled Hayabusa into the other room and shut the door. Leaving Sakamoto and Atsushi alone in the room.

Atsushi scrambled for his bag, Sakamoto went toward his own.

Exchanging no words, Atsushi wiped down his sweaty face and inspected his side. He saw no bruising, not a hard fall but, it hurt no one to check himself. Taking a look at Sakamoto, he relocated his bag and sat on one of their break chairs. Sakamoto pulled out a water bottle from his expensive looking black bag. No hair out of place. Well put together after a long practice. Damn Sakamoto's ability to appear perfect.

Sighing, he dropped his handkerchief into his bag. He readied himself for the immense scolding when Hayabusa returned from his little conference with Fukase. He deserved it. Rubbing his temples, he walked over to the chairs, feeling tired and groggy. Catching Sakamoto stiffening in his seat, he lost the tension in his shoulders, giving a less than threatening impression.

Slouching onto the seat next to Sakamoto, he rubbed his face with his hands. From in between in his fingers, he saw Sakamoto easing up. Lifting his head back, he breathed in and breathed out. He thought about his words and then opened his mouth.

"Listen...we're fucking up bad with this tension we have between us." Atsushi retied his hair back up after he ran his fingers through it. Untangling the knots and giving himself a scalp massage. "This last practice went down the tubes. I'm surprised Hayabusa didn't yell at me or threaten to beat my ass. Trust me, he doesn't hold back on his words."

Sakamoto recapped his bottled water and set it down onto the floor. His nerves riddled from Fukase's lack of commentary. A silent Fukase spelled _trouble_. "You've taken notice."

Atsushi slumped in the seat next to Sakamoto. "It's hard not to notice. We're _both_ stiff. I'm surprised you didn't say anything to me. In the second practice, you piped up every so often whenever I jerked a certain way."

Sakamoto took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I assumed keeping silent would benefit us. You didn't particularly enjoy hearing my comments." Atsushi hunched his shoulders. "I've meant to tell you that you've exceeded my expectations."

"Thanks." Atsushi smiled. "You're not a robot. I tend to let my mouth run before I filter it through my brain. The current me is a lot less...vulgar then when I was in high school."

"We both...entered a bad mood during that practice." Sakamoto applied pressure into the palm of his hand. "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing." Atsushi responded, leaning back, he placed his hands behind his head. He snickered. "I've fall off higher places and went without a scratch. These hardwood floors won't kill me."

Sakamoto placed his glasses back on his nose. "Are you positive?"

"Yeah." Atsushi added in. "I don't care if you lead. You're taller than me but I can carry you just fine. We have to switch around as the one who leads. Make it fair and all that."

"Before you assume my commentary came from your gender, I have criticized my old partners in the past and they didn't seem to mind."

One look at Sakamoto's face and Atsushi knew those girls agreed to anything he wanted. He admitted on staring for a second longer than usual sometimes. Lying to himself wouldn't benefit anyone.

Hayabusa explained Fukase's frustration at having to pick another partner for Sakamoto because the partners distraction fumbled into the performance. Aina fell complete over heels for Sakamoto. This prompted Fukase in disposing of her through her manager who opened the door to the idol world. Hayabusa hinted on tolerating Sakamoto despite his own vendetta against him.

He didn't hate Sakamoto. Not at all. The perfection Sakamoto displayed bugged him.

Sakamoto put out his hand in good nature. "In any case, shall we start over?"

"Yeah, I was being a worse jerk than you. For the sake of our partnership, we can start over." Atsushi shook his hand and patted his shoulder a tad hard. "So...any ideas on how bad of a scolding we'll get? I don't want to have to bolt out of here for a cardio workout."

Sakamoto worried his bottom lip. "I'm not sure. I haven't sat in the way of a lecture before. I watched Fukase harshly criticize one of his students enough where he broke down in tears."

Atsushi arched a brow. "Oh. So you have had your teacher snap at you before?"

Sakamoto shook his head. "My partners are the ones who usually receive the brunt of his words." He jolted when Atsushi wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Atsushi-san?"

Atsushi grinned. "I'll be right beside you when Fukase confronts us. Don't you worry. Just nod the whole time and don't interrupt them. That's how I made it less painful when ma reprimanded me because of school."

* * *

Fukase removed himself from the door. "They managed to settle their differences."

From his place in the sofa, Hayabusa sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. I didn't feel like yelling at them today. Honestly. I'm trying not to stress myself out too much." He drummed his fingers on his forearm. "Hmm...want to keep them sweating for a little while longer?" Fukase smirked at his direction. "Ten minutes?"

"Twenty." Fukase suggested. "We have to discuss certain matters."

"Like what?" Hayabusa checked on his phone and responded to a few messages. He cringed at the email of a stage mom coming after him for the lack of attention on her child. "Remember, I have to get going soon. I have to get back to the school and check on the intermediate class."

Fukase sat on the arm of the sofa, playing with a piece of Hayabusa's hair. "Call in for a student to place a sign on the door. Cancel your class for the week."

"Huh?" Hayabusa broke his attention away from the phone and glared up at Fukase. "What for?"

"You look exhausted." Fukase used his pointer finger to touch the dark circles under Hayabusa's eyes. "You might hide it well but, you're on the brink of exhaustion. You shouldn't have booked the practice on the same day as your class to begin with."

Hayabusa rolled his eyes. "I'm fine." He gave Fukase a once over as he closed the distance between their faces. Noses touching, he gulped. "O—Okay, you made your point. Mind leaning away from my face?"

"You didn't mind this close distance before."

"Well, that was years ago."

"Not too far back." Fukase cupped Hayabusa's cheek, he tilted his head to the side. "I still remember the touch of your lips against mine. I'm certain you haven't forgotten either."

Hayabusa lifted his hands, ready to push Fukase away but, he grasped onto his coat. "Almost like yesterday." He licked his lips, exhaling a shuddering breath. "Don't forget. You broke things off."

Fukase brushed their lips together. "I never formally broke anything, Shou. You assumed these words."

Hayabusa removed Fukase's hand from his cheek. "We never made this formal either." Biting the inside of his cheek, he pushed aside the desire and remembered their students. "Let's ease our brats worries. They have suffered enough." Hayabusa stood up, he touched his warm face and hurried out of the door.

Fukase concealed his trembling hand inside of his pocket, following after Hayabusa once he masked his face.

* * *

Hayabusa hauled the last bag of groceries onto his counter. Relieved at having food for the rest of the week. He reached down and rubbed his aching leg. Having stopped relying on pain medication, he somewhat grew accustomed to the twinges of pain. Most of the time, he worked through the jolts and they disappeared fast. It depended on the weather or hitting the area of injury. Having new students brought them to hit his leg without thinking. He grinned but on the inside he screamed.

His father, Hiroshi, started taking out the groceries and placed them onto the counter. He separated the items into different piles and collected the plastic bags into one. Hayabusa remembered his mother doing this whenever she returned from a shopping trip. Something about making the clean up take up less of her time. Taking care of young children made her quick on her feet.

"Thanks for helping me out pops." Hayabusa wiped the sweat from his brow and breathed through his nose. In his younger years, he didn't understand his father's complaints about his joints. As he experienced the sharp pains, he felt older than his current age. "I've been getting worse pains lately. I couldn't carry all that on my own."

Hiroshi waved it off with a light chuckle. "Not to worry. I enjoy spending time with you. Besides, we both need the light cardio work so our legs don't cramp up." He smiled sadly. "I only wish you didn't have to deal with this issue until you were _way_ older."

Hayabusa stood up straight. "It's my fault for not continuing the physical therapy. I couldn't miss out on my students or the classes. Not that I don't trust my advanced students, the younger ones tend to wild out when I'm not there." Hiroshi laughed out loud. "You wouldn't be laughing if you were in my shoes. Those brats are trouble when left alone."

Hiroshi slapped his knee, he said in between laughs. "Now, you see what I dealt with! You boys knew how to make an old man stress and worry!"

"Pops, we were not so bad." Hayabusa uttered out.

Hiroshi pinched Hayabusa's face and went to wash the vegetables. "Do you feel like having vegetable stir fry? Might as well make you a home cooked meal before going back home."

"Yeah, sure." Hayabusa rubbed his sore cheek. His old man still had a strong grip.

"Ryuu, Sora and Akio ended up with a travel bug. They got it into their heads to visit _all_ the historical places in Japan." Hiroshi cut the vegetables in their proper sizes and set them aside.

"How did they get the money?"

Hiroshi shrugged his shoulders. "They managed to work long hours for half the year and packed their money together. I told them to keep tabs with me and send you updates before you went searching for them."

"Ah." Hayabusa looked through his phone and sure enough there was a message from Ryuu showing pictures of themselves in Okinawa. "Let's hope they don't try to do this for another country. Sounds fun though."

Hiroshi turned on the stove. "A killer on the wallet though." He waited until it heated up before adding oil to the pan. "Sit down, Shou."

His father's brief glance on his leg made Hayabusa sigh. "Fine." He sat down and watched his father add the vegetables into the pan. "Other than my brothers little vacation, anything else I should know about?"

Hiroshi shook his head. "Nope." He maneuvered the veggies around with a wooden spoon. "Anything new with Fukase?"

Hayabusa snapped his head toward his father. His heart thundered in his chest at the mere mention of Fukase's name. "What about him?"

Hiroshi added their pre-made sauce into the pan, the smell of seasoned vegetables filled the air. Both of their stomachs grumbled. "I haven't heard anything about him in such a long time. You used to talk about him quite often. Are you two alright?"

"You're speaking as if I cut off all ties with him or something. We're still in the same social circles. He's just less sociable than me." Hayabusa sniffled. "Wait...I used to talk about him all the time? I don't remember that."

Hiroshi cleared up his meaning. " _Complaining_ , Shou."

"Ah," Hayabusa nodded his head. "Yeah, that sounds like me. Half the time, I didn't have anything nice to say about him."

Hiroshi mused. "Too bad same sex couples weren't common when you still competed. A dance between you and Fukase would have wowed the judges."

Hayabusa sputtered. "What kind of ideas are you getting inside your head, pops? "

"Just musings of an old man. Don't mind me."

* * *

Taking a break from their practice, everyone went into one of the adjacent rooms which housed a wooden table. Fukase and Hayabusa sat on one side, while Atsushi and Sakamoto sat across from them. Before Atsushi sat down, he bolted back into the other room. Fukase and Hayabusa continued on speaking. Sakamoto kept his eyes on the entrance, curious on Atsushi's sudden departure.

Atsushi moved a second bag onto the table, the wood rattled from the weight. His face burned due to a sudden moment of shyness. Sakamoto stared at the bag but, asked no questions. He coughed into his hand. Hayabusa and Fukase stopped speaking and turned their attention onto him.

"Ma made you all lunch. It's a thank you for tolerating me and working me to the bone this season. She ended up making Hayabusa's favorites so each one is the same." He shot a look at Fukase and Sakamoto. "You two are going to have to deal."

Sakamoto placed a hand up in good will. "I have no complaints or allergies to speak of. I'm sure the food will be enjoyable."

Hayabusa clapped his hands together, he drooled at the memories of Aiko's cooking. "Oh man, this is a treat! Aiko sure knows how to make a great lunch." He scooted his box toward him, almost bouncing in his seat.

Making no move to touch his box, Fukase narrowed his eyes. "I don't eat food that I haven't personally prepared."

Hayabusa glared at him. "Don't you _dare_ offend Aiko! She didn't have to make this food for us. Before you open your mouth again, she keeps health in mind when preparing her food. After Acchan took dancing seriously, Aiko took it upon herself to feed him a balanced diet." He opened his box, the smell brought Sakamoto and Fukase's stomachs to grumble loud.

Atsushi smirked. "Aren't you two going to eat?" He slumped into his seat and grabbed some chopsticks. "Ma will want a report when I talk to her tonight. She'd rather hear about people enjoying her food."

Fukase stared at his box with speculative eyes. "I have not said anything positive about your mother's food." He arched a brow at Hayabusa frown of exasperation and motioning him to eat.

"You better start eating then." Atsushi ate a bite of his share and he groaned in satisfaction. "Damn, ma knows how to make a mean lunch."

Sakamoto grasped his chopsticks and opened his box. Sharing a slight glance with Fukase, he began eating. The multiple flavors coated his tongue, a small smile grew on his face. An amazing home cooked meal. He tried not to think back to the last lunch his parents made him and dug in.

Fukase gave in and picked up his own chopsticks. Sakamoto, Hayabusa and Atsushi stared at him. Holding back his remarks, he ate the first bite, regretting having placed such bravado moments ago. Aiko Maeda's lunch changed his mind with one bite.

* * *

Atsushi lifted the dark red blazer, feeling the soft material in between his fingers. He imagined himself dancing in a loose suit. The lack of restriction gave him the freedom to perform more strenuous stunts. In his usual dancing wardrobe, he used dark blacks and blues for his suits. Hayabusa suggested less flashy colors in order to focus on the performance than the outfit. On the rare occasion, he used reds and oranges. A splash of color on the right place brought the right attention.

During of his visits to Hayabusa's family home, he remembered glancing at a display Hayabusa's father made of Hayabusa's competitions. Multiple photos which showcased different facets of Hayabusa's career. His losses. His wins. Everything in between. A spectacular view to behold. Each time he commented on a particular photo, Hiroshi responded without sparing a beat.

Hiroshi did the same to the rest of his sons who competed in sports or received high accolades in academics. He spared no expense in displaying his sons accomplishments. His support for his children was boundless. All of the Hayabusa brothers turned sheepish and embarrassed at their father's prideful words.

Sparing a look at a gaudy velvet suit, Atsushi cringed. The fabric and bright color alone made him step toward another direction. Checking out the remainder of the inventory, he returned back to Sakamoto's side. A mannequin showcasing a well-tailored suit caught Sakamoto's attention.

Sakamoto asked him. "Did you find anything suiting your taste?"

"Nah." Atsushi shrugged his shoulders. "I tried looking through different styles and colors. Most of these suits look the same or have the worst fabric possible. It's not like I'm going to suggest bright colors for us." Sakamoto peered at him from the corner of his eyes. "I take it that you hate bright colored suits."

"I suggest a more—subdued color for our debut." Sakamoto motioned to the black suits in the opposite direction. "You may chose a bright button up shirt or tie." He added in. "You have to get fitted in a proper suit." Atsushi groaned. "Now, now, the one you wore in the video bunched in the wrong places. A well pressed suit but it made you appear sloppy."

Atsushi rolled his eyes, "I can get the suit tailored and wear that to the competition. No sweat off my back. Ma knows someone in her group of friends who's good at tailoring. She's careful with the pins." He checked out the ugly ties and wrinkled his nose. "I thought I tagged along to find something for _you_. When the hell did this turn into a shopping trip for me?"

Sakamoto quirked a brow. "You're my partner. I'm looking for your best interest. We're a packaged deal in the eyes of the judges. The focus might be on dancing but let's be frank, they notice when one is dressed—horrid." He lifted a suit with a different style of lapel for the collar of the blazer. "We have to blend together and seem like _one_."

Atsushi coughed into his hand, his face reddened from the implication. "You're taking it a bit too far. It's _dancing._ In fact, this is the start of the season. Nothing special."

Sakamoto handed Atsushi one of the suits, he tilted his head to the side. "What did you think I meant?"

"Nothing." Atsushi went into the dressing room, ignoring the flutter developing in his chest. "I'll try on the damn suit."

* * *

Having agreed on meeting at the venue, Sakamoto and Atsushi traveled after their teachers left in their own cab. Throughout the journey, they transcended into a deep conversation which made the trip shorter than usual. Sharing laughs and jokes. They showed pictures from their phones. Sakamoto asked about Aiko's recipes and Atsushi explained some of her methods which Sakamoto registered for another time. Bonding closer without their teachers in their presence.

Once they made it to the building, Atsushi hopped out, scoping out the place while Sakamoto paid the driver. They almost left to grab a quick meal but decided against it. They were not late but their teachers advised them from eating anything too filling.

Any anxiety over their performance went to the back burner. Sakamoto seemed unaffected and in control. Atsushi's nervousness crawled back when he stepped into the venue. He hid it well from Sakamoto but he kept gripping the ends of his sweatshirt. He shoved his hands into his pockets and went on ahead of Sakamoto.

His actions earned a confused glance from Sakamoto who went to a vending machine on the same floor. Picking one of the hot canned teas, he added in the money and pressed the button. Grabbing the can, he caught back up to Atsushi and tapped him on the back. Atsushi jumped in surprise and turned around with his fists up.

Atsushi lowered his fists and scowled. "Sakamoto? What the hell? Why are you trying to scare me or something?"

Sakamoto handed the can into Atsushi's hands. "You need a good pick me up before you make yourself panic."

"Damn, you noticed." Atsushi popped open the can and sipped his hot ginger tea.

Sakamoto placed a comforting hand on Atsushi's shoulder. "You went silent once we walked through those doors. Your face showed nothing but your out of character silence caught my attention. Come, we should get dressed while waiting for our turn."

Atsushi breathed through his nose, taking another sip, he walked alongside Sakamoto. "Thanks."

Entering the locker room, both of them dressed in their suits. Inspecting one another for anything stuck on their costimes, stray lint, a piece of paper, anything which they pinched off. Atsushi used water to pull back any stray hairs into his ponytail. He messed up Sakamoto's clean cut hair in order to add an extra flair. Sakamoto at first resisted until he saw himself in the mirror.

Atsushi downed the rest of his tea and dropped the plastic cup into the right garbage can. He put on his shoes before having Sakamoto help him with his tie. Sakamoto tied it without much of a problem. Thanking him, he went to talk a bit with some of his acquaintances. They spared a glance to Sakamoto before they left the locker room.

Sakamoto heard the announcement of the pair before their turn. He turned to Atsushi and inquired. "Ready?"

Atsushi nodded his head. "Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

Narrowing his eyes, Hayabusa cuffed the back of his student's head. "I better not hear any explicit words coming from you guys. We're here to set an example for our school and foolishness doesn't cut it."

"Y—Yes, Hayabusa-san." He sputtered out before relaying the message to the others.

 _"Such a lovely performance from Takahashi Hanako and Yagami Daichi."_ The audience clapped for the pair, before they left the stage, they gave one last bow. _"Now, presenting a new pair. Both of them making their debut as a duo, Maeda Atsushi and Sakamoto_ —"

Sakamoto and Atsushi walked up to the platform. The girls screamed for Sakamoto while the group beside Hayabusa yelled for Atsushi. Both of them wore matching dark suits, silk ties, and polished black shoes. Atsushi held his hair back into a high ponytail. Sakamoto brushed his hair into a swooping style which left his face bare of any strands. He wore contact lenses for competitions.

"You better not fuck up Acchan! You have practiced this routine plenty of times during practice!" Hayabusa screamed from his spot in the audience, Fukase gripped the back of his shirt in amusement. "I didn't plan this routine with this jerk just for you to trip on your feet. Buck up and pay attention! Eyes on first place!"

Hayabusa's students held their tongues in calling their teacher out for his hypocrisy.

Having heard Hayabusa's words, Atsushi flinched. Hayabusa's voice cut through the volume of the audience. He heard these familiar words in plenty of his competitions. The stage lights blinded him from pin pointing Hayabusa but he gave him a hesitant wave. He turned back to Sakamoto and noticed his questioning gaze. He mouthed out the words, _later_ , before they went into position.

Fukase shook his head, leaning close to his ear, he said. "Shou, don't you trust your student?"

Hayabusa glared back at him, daring him to comment on his cheering methods. "What are you talking about? These _are_ encouraging words."

 _"The music accompaning their performance is 'La Cumparsita'! Give them a round of applause!"_

* * *

Lounging in Fukase's apartment, Hayabusa clinked their whiskey glasses together. Leaning back onto his own one seater, Hayabusa stared down at the amber liquid, smiling big. The buzz from Atsushi and Sakamoto's first place win kept up his spirits. After the competition ended, Sakamoto and Atsushi left to their respective homes. He insisted on canceling their next practice to give them a well deserved break. Fukase agreed, on the condition that he went to his apartment.

He downed a bit of his portion, warmness spread through his chest. Fukase's glass remained full. No indication of him having a sip. Without the alcoholic buzz, Fukase seemed relaxed and serene in his downtime clothes.

"I'm so relieved." Hayabusa downed another gulp. "All this work didn't go to waste. We pushed a gamble when we joined our boys together. Good thing Acchan doesn't fly off the handle anymore. He might have punched out your star." Fukase quirked a brow. "Don't play coy. You know Acchan used to do the same shit I did. He had a shorter temper as well."

"Ah yes," Fukase touched the rim of his glass. "The interesting stories of your youth. Ones which you have yet to tell me after all these years."

Hayabusa snorted. "Find out for yourself."

"I can always call your father." Fukase smiled. "I haven't spoken to him in years. It's too bad. I've been busy with other engagements. Send him my regards."

Hayabusa sneered. "You're not calling pops. Furthermore, he's not going to talk about when I was a teenager."

"This coming from the man who loves embarrassing his sons." Fukase winked at Hayabusa who bristled in his seat. "He will tell me everything and more. I'm sure he has new stories to tell me."

Hayabusa downed the rest of his drink. "Yeah right." He placed the glass on the table, slouching with a yawn.

Lifting himself off his seat, Fukase left his drink on the table. "Why don't we dance?" Fukase put out his hand, urging him on with a smirk. "A simple slow dance. Nothing too extravagant."

Hayabusa rolled his eyes. "We have no music—" Fukase opened his mouth to retort, Hayabusa saved him the trouble. "And I'm sure you already have something prepared in your sound system."

"You know me so well." Fukase pulled Hayabusa out of his seat, leaving him for a brief moment, he turned on the music.

Hayabusa recognized the song. Rolling his eyes, he scoffed at the choice. They danced to this song whenever Fukase managed to snag time away from their partners and their teachers. Fukase returned. Placing a hand on Fukase's waist and shoulder, they moved along with the music. He kept a close eye on Fukase's hands but let him lead their dance.

Hayabusa's breath hitched as he completed his turn. His leg trembled from the strain but he kept his face impassive. Showing weakness in front of Fukase would bite him in the ass later.

Fukase guided him back into his arms, careful in keeping the speed down. "Does your leg ache?" He rubbed soothing circles on Hayabusa's waist. "You stiffened on that last twirl. Don't think I didn't notice."

Hayabusa winced as another twinge throbbed his leg. "It's nothing. All this running around just caught up with me. It isn't as painful as it used to be. I'm not popping pills every hour. That's an improvement."

"Good." Fukase tilted Hayabusa's chin up as they glided along. "Remember the old days when we danced into the night? The moments when our partners scurried along for their own time, leaving us alone to our own devices. Those lingering moments of closeness."

Hayabusa's lips quirked up. " _Old days_? Your brain is rattled and forgetful." He patted Fukase's cheek. "I'm still young, _old_ man."

Fukase pinched the skin of his hand, Hayabusa met his stare without fear. "You have avoided letting me touch you since that afternoon. I decided in concealing the observation until the right moment." Their faces touched, Fukase's breath tickled Hayabusa's ear. "Now, you're dancing with me. You're not avoiding my touch."

Inhaling Fukase's cologne, Hayabusa let himself sway to the music. "I felt nostalgic."

"Nostalgic?"

"Yes. Isn't that the reason that you chose this song?" As the track ended, Fukase tightened his hold on him, insistent on keeping him from leaving. "Let go of me, Fukase." When Fukase released him, Hayabusa shuffled toward his discarded sweater, missing Fukase's longing eyes.

* * *

Sakamoto returned from the kitchen with a tray containing two glasses of black iced tea in his hands. His silent footsteps gave him an advantage in catching his partner off guard. Observing him from a distance, Atsushi's attention went toward a photo on his dresser drawer. One of the few family portraits where his parents stayed longer than a year. Long enough for him to see them often and play out a family scenario, something which didn't last long.

He set the tray onto his low rise table, the tap caused Atsushi to snap to his direction. Hiding his amusement, he spoke up. "I hope it's to your liking. Fair warning, I don't add much sweetener to my portions of tea."

"Nah, it's alright." Atsushi calmed himself as he grasped his glass and sipped. "I'm used to little to no sugar in my tea. Ice or hot. Ma says it disturbs the natural flavor. This is good by the way. You made it?" Sakamoto confirmed with a nod. "I need to get lessons. Half the time, mine is too strong or weak."

"I wouldn't mind showing you the right measurements and brewing time." Sakamoto collected a notebook and pen from his old desk and set it down on the low rise table. "Shall we start contemplating the new routine? Fukase-san told me we can plan for our next competition."

Atsushi scoffed. "I'm ready for them to tear it into pieces and disregard the music we picked."

Sakamoto wrote down an idea which popped into his head. "I'm not disagreeing with that claim. Fukase-san has scrapped a routine due to a miscalculation in points." He tapped the pencil onto his table. "He's done the same when it doesn't appeal to the judges or seems robotic. Anything that doesn't agree with his vision. It happens often."

"Well damn, does nothing please the man?" Atsushi gulped his tea and slouched onto the table. "Did you know that Hayabusa and Fukase were rivals? Old news, I know, but, I was curious."

"Yes. Everyone in the industry knew about it." Sakamoto added another move onto the paper. "Fukase-san presents Hayabusa-san's old routines as examples."

Atsushi straightened up in surprise. " _Seriously?_ "

"Yes," Sakamoto slid the paper toward Atsushi. "Don't pass on the knowledge to Hayabusa-san. Fukase-san is... _secretive_...in what he does in his classes."

Atsushi snatched up a pencil and it hovered over the paper. "I'm sure Hayabusa will figure it out eventually. They're spending all this time together, he's bound to catch Fukase playing his stuff in his studio. I don't need to tell him anything."

"I see."

Atsushi scribbled down a complex move, adding in a sketched out version on the side. He added in their names on the stick figures. "Trust me, I can do this move. Hayabusa has his top competitors go to the gym to build up upper body strength. Plus, I used to jump fences when I was a teenager."

Sakamoto arched a well sculpted brow. "Jumping fences?"

Atsushi hunched his shoulders and bit the inside of his cheek. "Y—Yeah. I used to get into some trouble in high school. My ma signed me up for Hayabusa's classes in an attempt to get me to stop my bullshit. It worked. I don't see myself doing anything other than dancing." He grinned. "It helped that Hayabusa went through the same phase. He doesn't act holier than thou with me."

"Ah," Sakamoto read the dance moves on the paper, he added another suggestion on the side. "Your mother pushed you onto this path? You didn't choose it yourself?"

Atsushi shook his head. "I was an asshole punk who thought dancing was for sissies. It took Hayabusa threatening humiliation in front of his class for me to start going. Let's just say my old friends have taken onto cheering me on. They make it to a majority of my competitions now."

"I imagine the ones who yelled out your name were your old friends."

"Nah, those guys are from Hayabusa's school. They tend to come and learn from watching performances in person. My personal friends were busy with work this time." Atsushi relaxed in his spot, the pressure left his shoulders from the lack of judgment coming from Sakamoto. "Anyway, any ideas for the song?"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: To those who waited for this next installment, enjoy this new chapter! I apologize for taking too long, I switched projects, but I couldn't get the words out through this fic._

 _-Lucicelo_

* * *

Part 3

Finding nothing wrong with the new routine, Hayabusa handed the paper back into Atsushi's awaiting hands. "Approved."

Atsushi and Sakamoto mouths gaped open. They expected an extended fight with their teachers over keeping aspects of their routine and the music. In Sakamoto's room, they spent time preparing a strategy in backing each other's thoughts. Atsushi handled the reasons while Sakamoto pointed out the advantages of their routine. After handing in their proposal, Hayabusa and Fukase went toward the other side, speaking in hushed tones.

The whole debate didn't last more than five minutes.

This seemed _too_ easy.

Atsushi blurted out without thinking. "Usually, you tear into my ideas and toss them into the trash. What the _fuck_ Hayabusa? You're being surprisingly nice today."

Sakamoto hid the urge to give Atsushi an exasperated stare. Unfiltered mouth _indeed._

Fukase's fake smile disguised his annoyance. "Are you questioning _our_ decision, Maeda-san?" Hayabusa pinched his waist, stopping his tirade. He hissed under his breath. " _Shou."_ Hayabusa hid his hands behind his back, whistling a simple tune.

Noticing the signs of Fukase's reprimanding tone, Sakamoto piped up. "It's not a manner of questioning your combined decision, Fukase-san. We assumed a massive amount of corrections on the paper before handing it back to us." He squeezed Atsushi's shoulder, giving him the hint to keep his mouth shut. "Thank you for believing in our vision."

Hayabusa snorted, waving Sakamoto's last sentence away. "Don't try to butter us up. You're both going to practice this routine until there are little to no mistakes. I expect the best out of both of you." Fukase hummed in approval. "The music fits the moves and your personalities well. A well placed song does wonders to show the finesse of the dancers."

Fukase drummed his fingers on his forearm. "We can always have them switch in the middle of the routine. It will show diversity in their talents. Both of them are strong enough to lift the other one around. Your student has the built to easily maneuver Sakamoto throughout the intense parts."

Hayabusa agreed with him. "Sounds good."

Atsushi inquired. "Okay, why is that a good thing? Isn't it better to have one lead and then switch around in the next performance? Wouldn't this confuse the judges or something?"

Hayabusa shook his head. "Not necessarily. You two have to stand out in the crowd and gain the judges undivided attention. The fact you two are men gives an extra glance already. The new millennium is accepting of same sex competitors. You do know there is a style of tango for switching leads, right?"

Atsushi rolled his eyes. "I'm not ignorant about the different aspects of tango. I just didn't think it would be allowed. There has never been a famous duo of men actually winning the World Tango competition. Most of them don't make it past the preliminaries. Hell, most barely get the top tiers in their native countries."

Fukase cut right in. "There's already a buzz from the first win. From the grapevine, you two are already in the top tier. Your shared experiences and familiar names have the judges expecting the best. Having us as your teachers have stamped the both of you as prime competition to the other competitors."

Atsushi huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Jeez, No pressure or anything."

Sakamoto placed a comforting hand on Atsushi's shoulder. "It's alright. We can work on some stress relief exercises. I learned a number of them from when I first began competitions. Those will help you relax."

Atsushi smiled light. "Thanks."

Hayabusa tapped his chin, watching their closeness with an arched brow.

* * *

Sakamoto hooked his dry cleaned suit onto a rack while replaying the routine in his mind. Having repeated practices with Atsushi helped his state of mind for not having a mishap happening to them. From the results of the last competition, he didn't stress on results, Atsushi performed well. They flowed well in a perfect unison of one another. The future brightened in his mind over the possibility of rising toward the main world stage.

He remembered watching videos of his parents winning consecutive titles or getting second place. They expected him to win a good number of competitions before he turned thirty. A feat he desired more than anything. It wasn't to gain his parents approval. He lost the eagerness of his youth long ago. He wanted to make his own talent shine.

A bit hard to branch out on his own when his last name garnered him a good step into the judges favor.

Fukase handed the music accompaniment to the sound director, while Hayabusa signed them in. This left them to relax in the locker room and prepare themselves before getting called in.

Feeling parched, Sakamoto removed money from his wallet. "I'll be right back." He informed Atsushi before walking through the door.

"Sure, I'll be changed before you get back." Atsushi went to his shirts. giving one look at the rack, he almost punched a wall. Someone spilled coffee on his shirts. Scrambling through them, he saw no usable shirts. Trying not to panic, he went to his black bag which carried extra clothes and whatever he needed.

The door to the locker room creaked open as a woman asked. "Anyone in here?"

Atsushi managed to get an old shirt over his undershirt when he recognized the voice. " _Ma!_ This is the _men's_ locker room." He screeched. "You can't be in here!"

"So? I've seen you nude before. I used to change your dirty diapers and wipe your ass. Nothing I haven't seen before." Aiko pushed the door wide open, noting no other men, she stepped right inside. She commented on his state of dress. "You're still not dressed yet? You're usually quick."

Atsushi fixed up his tie, his scowl deepened. "Some idiot spilled coffee on my shirts. I kept this shirt in my bag in case something like this happened. I should have left them with Sakamoto's things. They're _never_ ruined." He began buttoning the cuffs of his shirt, his hands trembled from the stress. "Don't you _dare_ comment on the wrinkles."

Aiko ceased her initial scolding due to Atsushi's frazzled behavior. She closed the door behind her and noticed the steam machine in the corner. "Go get yourself something to drink from a vending machine. Hand me the shirt, I'll steam it for you. You already look like you're going to collapse from the nerves."

Atsushi released a shaky sigh, the pressure of the competition and this sudden mishap worsened his anxiety. "Thanks, ma." He loosened his tie, then unbuttoned his shirt before handing it to her. "I'll try to run fast."

Aiko placed the shirt on a hanger and settled in on one of the lockers. She turned on the steamer, assuring her son. "Take your time. Besides, there are still a good number of competitors in the line up. _Relax_."

"Thanks again." Atsushi bolted out the locker room.

Aiko tutted. "That boy overthinks too much." She tested out the steamer, then began running it down the wrinkled areas. Sticking out her tongue, she focused on the torso before moving onto the sleeves.

Sakamoto entered the locker room, surprised at seeing a woman in the men's locker room, he made his presence known. "My apologies. I didn't know this area was occupied. Is the women's locker room in repairs?"

Aiko peeked over her shoulder, the steamer attachment firm in her hand. "No, you're in the right place. I'm the one intruding in the men's locker room." She motioned to the shirt. "I'm helping my son get the wrinkles off his shirt. I stopped him before he finished dressing himself. He almost wore this out into the competition. Good thing I found him and not his father."

"I see." Sakamoto let the door close on its own, "It's amazing to see parents show an interest in their child's activities. After a certain point, most tend to miss the performances."

Smiling, Aiko shut off the steamer and moved it back into place. "I've only missed one. Lucky for me, my husband had a conference in the same area and went in my place. He recorded the whole thing and we have it somewhere in Atsushi's trophy case."

"Atsushi? Maeda Atsushi?" Sakamoto inquired.

"Yes." Aiko patted down the shirt and smoothed it out. "You know him?"

"Yes, he's my partner."

Aiko turned to him, "You? You're the one leading this performance." She bowed. "Thank you so much for accompanying him this season. Atsushi doesn't comment much about his practices other than Hayabusa working him hard as always."

Sakamoto bowed as well. "Maeda-san has told numerous stories about you throughout our time together. The lunches you prepared a while back were delicious and filling. Thank you for putting thought into us. I'd love to know the recipes."

Aiko chuckled. "It's no problem on my end. Anything to help out my brat." She inquired. "You cook?"

"Sometimes. I'm left to my own devices where I have to make myself self sufficient."

Atsushi opened the door, seeing the both of them together, he commented. "I see you guys got acquainted."

Aiko unhooked the shirt and handed it to Atsushi. "All done. This didn't take me long to steam."

Atsushi sheepishly smiled. "Thanks ma." He took off the shirt, put it on himself and began buttoning it. "Oh yeah, Sakamoto, meet my mother, Maeda Aiko." Atsushi smoothed down his button down shirt. "Ma, this is Sakamoto—"

Hayabusa burst into the locker room. "Atsushi! What's taking—Oh, Aiko, I didn't know you were in here." He strolled to her and gave her a warm hug. "Good to see you. Too bad I didn't see you at the competition from last time, the crowds got too big."

Aiko held him back, giving him a squeeze. "It's quite alright. We can plan a meet up spot where we can talk for a little bit."

"Sounds great."

 _"Coming on stage is the local pair, Kimiko Sano and Hiroki Mori."_

Hayabusa kissed his teeth, he motioned toward the door." Well, that's the last pair before you two are expected on stage. Go on. You have to make it there before they finish."

Sakamoto bowed to Aiko as he addressed her. "I was a pleasure meeting Atsushi-san's mother." He turned to Atsushi. "Shall we go?"

* * *

Before the music started, Atsushi went into the leading position, placing his hands in the right areas. Sakamoto relaxed in his hold, connecting their gazes, they smiled light. Ignoring the peering gazes of the audience, they began moving around once the first note began. The music flowed between them, moving their bodies and losing themselves into the moves they planned.

Twirling, Atsushi readied himself to jump. Sakamoto guided him along, executing the landing and posing for a brief moment before he made his own small jump. Atsushi lead Sakamoto into a reverse embrace. Transitioning between a front cross and a back cross, they moved along the stage, making use of the area.

Atsushi moved out of the reverse embrace, spinning into a switch step. He noted Sakamoto presented a less than robotic body language. Sakamoto glowed under the lights. Basking in what seemed to be a natural environment for him. This urged him to add more energy into his movements. Smirking, he guided them into a sequence of steps.

Sakamoto took the lead, dipping Atsushi, then pulling him up to his chest. Their noses brushed and Atsushi dared to stick his tongue out. He faced away from the judges, giving him a little leeway from criticism. Sakamoto pulled him along, turning him toward the direction of the judges, making his expression less than mischievous.

The stirring of passions burned in their bodies, elevating alongside the climax of the song.

Atsushi clung onto Sakamoto, pushing their bodies together. Inhaling the lingering cologne Sakamoto dabbed behind his ears, he trembled from the familiarity. He missed the widening eyes coming from Sakamoto when he realized their sudden closeness.

This wasn't planned in their routine.

Sakamoto tossed his head back, smoothing back any stray hairs. As they stuck their last pose, chests heaved, taking in air. He connected their foreheads. Atsushi curled his fingers into the fabric of Sakamoto's blazer.

Basking in the light, ignoring the applause, their hearts resumed their normal rhythm.

The intercom broke them apart. "Next on stage..."

Sakamoto and Atsushi hurried off the stage, faces warm from the delay in departure. They kept a close distance to one another.

* * *

After Soichiro shook Fukase's hand, she did the same. Thrilled to meet Hayabusa's old rival, she inspected the guy while remembering the old pictures she saw of the guy. He changed his hairstyle into a shorter version. Atsushi recalled some incidents with Sakamoto's teacher. None of them threatening enough where her son reverted back into his temper and ruined his chances in his career. Although, Hayabusa always backed up her son and wouldn't have let him gain any disrespect.

Hayabusa smoothed down her doubts during their conversations. From the start, Fukase offered the partnership and insisted on joining their names to elevate their students. This gave her the assurance of leaving her doubts out the door and focusing on helping out her son in her current ability. It helped that Hayabusa encouraged her to call when any problem arose on behalf of her son.

"Thank you so much for handling my brat this season. I'm Aiko Maeda." She patted her husband's chest, he snorted in amusement. "This is my husband Soichiro Maeda. As you may have gathered, we're Atsushi Maeda's parents."

Fukase shared a glance with Hayabusa, before turning his gaze back onto her. "It's a pleasure. Your son has kept up with my student without many problems arising between the both of them."

"Good to hear." Aiko said.

Soichiro scoffed. "At least, he knows not to ruin his chances over little squabbles. He can't break focus after all this hard work."

Aiko nudged her husband's side. "Let's just celebrate the fact that he doesn't punch and ask questions afterwards. He grew out of that phase." She addressed Fukase. "Be honest. How do you see Atsushi's interactions with your student?"

Fukase answered her. "They had a falling out earlier in the season-"

Hayabusa interjected. "They didn't need us to force them to settle their situation. Everything is peachy keen now. From the performance alone, they are bonding way closer than we expected."

"Excellent!" Aiko grinned. "I was worried for Atsushi. He kept changing different partners in the last few years." Both her and Soichiro bowed. "Again, thank you so much."

* * *

"Good morning!" Atsushi bellowed from the front entrance, he spotted Sakamoto stretching himself on the balance bar. He laid his bag near Sakamoto's duffel bag before stretching his arms above his head. "I brought some green tea for our break. Ma made a large thermos of the stuff. Oh! She gave me the recipes of the food she made last time."

Sakamoto straightened himself out, nodding at Atsushi. "Thank you, Maeda-san. Send your mother my regards for her thoughtful gesture." He rolled his wrists, working up his arms, loosening them up.

Atsushi unzipped his sweater and dropped it on the ground. "I'll send her a text once our practice is over. She keeps insisting on status reports and more information about us. Last time, she called Hayabusa since I didn't tell her enough. It's not a bad thing. I mean, ma and pa encourage me to do my best."

Sakamoto walked toward Atsushi, removing his glasses and holding them with one hand. "It was a surprise to see your mother at the venue. Even more surprising, she told me she never missed a performance."

Atsushi pulled his hair back into a half ponytail as he smiled. "Yeah, she's invested in seeing me go into international competitions." He hunched his shoulders, sheepish all of a sudden. "Even pa is backing me up. So yeah...I didn't know what it felt like to have parents proud of you."

"I'm certain they felt pride in you before your entrance into tango."

Atsushi shook his head. "Nah. They didn't have to tell me, but I felt their disappointment. You don't need to have someone say anything when their expression tells you everything. I was a fuck up. I think...ma was relieved that I had Kenken and Mario backing me up when it got tough. We protected each other you know."

Sakamoto tipped his head up and down. "I can't fathom understanding that part of your youth, but I'm glad that you're standing before me."

Atsushi tapped Sakamoto's arm with his fist, amused at the declaration. "Don't get all fancy with me, thanks for the nice words though. Most just sneer at me for the dumb shit I pulled." He inspected the room, noting the absence of their teachers. "Where's Fukase and Hayabusa?"

"They left on an errand." Sakamoto further explained before Atsushi asked to elaborate. "None of them gave any explanation or a time on when they were to return."

"Not again." Atsushi rolled his shoulders. "I don't want Hayabusa on my ass about not warming up enough without his presence. Let's get this started. How'd you start anyway?"

Sakamoto answered. "On the balance beam,"

"Alright then, I'll catch up to you in a little bit. _Shit!_ " Atsushi slipped over his sweater, bringing Sakamoto along with him. Through his momentum, he managed to stay upright as his back hit the wall. "Yikes..." Removing his hands off of Sakamoto, he rubbed his forearm which took most of the impact. "You alright?"

Sakamoto placed his hands on each side of Atsushi's head, inspecting Atsushi's pained face. "Yes...I'm fine. Are you alright? No injuries?"

"I'm good." Atsushi peered up at Sakamoto, his cheeks turned red at the closeness of their faces. "Uh...you alright there?"

Sakamoto moved their faces closer, not realizing his actions, their noses bumped. Almost jerking back, he muttered a quick apology. Avoiding Atsushi's stare, he didn't move from his position. This sudden departure from his usual character brought multiple thoughts in his head. He felt the nagging tug throughout the months, cultivating through their routines.

A warm hand touched his cheek, bringing him back from his thoughts. Atsushi's gaze burned through him, questioning him without words. Hesitating, he lowered his hands onto Atsushi's shoulders, not knowing the right procedure to continue.

Atsushi's impatience prompted their further as he pulled him down for a kiss. Letting Sakamoto take the reigns, his arms dropped to his sides. Closing his eyes, he melted against Sakamoto's body.

Sakamoto's cheeks flushed pink when he stepped back. "Is this—Is this what it means to bring passion into a dance?" He pressed Atsushi against the wall, leaving no room in between their chests. Their heart beats meshed into one. "To lose yourself in the emotions? Focusing on your partner?"

Atsushi's arms stayed limp on his sides, observing the sudden mess of his prim and proper partner. The swollen lips, the feral gleam in his eyes, a far cry from the perfectionist he knew. "H—How the hell should I know? I never kissed any of my old dance partners. None of them interested me beyond simple friendship."

Sakamoto leaned in close. "Would you like to try again?"

"Try? What?" Atsushi curled his fingers on Sakamoto's shoulder. "Another kiss?" Sakamoto confirmed his answer with a nod. "Ah—Sure. You can go right ahead."

Sakamoto's hands cupped Atsushi's face, keeping him in place. He waited for another silent confirmation before he made another move. He leaned down, kissing him, over and over again. He loved feeling Atsushi's chapped lips against his own. The contrast didn't bother him. These differences between them tantalized him, eager for more.

Atsushi reached over Sakamoto's shoulders, curling his arms around his neck. He ran his fingers through Sakamoto's hair, tugging on handfuls of strands. Almost clinging to him while trying to deepen their kiss through licking his lower lip. Sakamoto didn't get the message and kept pecking his lips. Growing a tad frustrated, Atsushi broke contact and muttered. "Open your mouth, damn it."

"My mouth?" Sakamoto furrowed his brows, confused on his demand. "Why would you need—"

A cough broke their created world apart. Both of them turned toward the entrance, Hayabusa and Fukase stood there, confused and curious. Atsushi maneuvered around Sakamoto and avoided staring at any of them. Sakamoto continued on staring at the wall before him. Mortified at having gotten caught in such a compromising position.

Hayabusa addressed Fukase with a tilt of a brow. "At least our idiots are not fighting like you claimed. Oh and you owe me money. I told you they had a thing going on behind our backs."

* * *

All throughout dinner, Atsushi gathering his nerve to tell his friends about Sakamoto. In phone calls and texts, he confirmed their fixed misunderstanding. No more tense practices. He left out the fact that their partnership went into a whole different direction.

Taking a huge gulp of beer, he slammed it onto the table. "He kissed me!"

Processing Atsushi's declaration, Kenken and Mario's shock came forth through their expressions. Due to Atsushi's focus in dancing, he left social gatherings in the back burner. They heard nothing about a new person gaining their Acchan's attention at all. The gender of the kissing bandit surprised them.

Atsushi's face turned into the deepest red they ever witnessed. Whoever kissed Atsushi managed to sway him into such a distressing sight. They suspected Acchan thought their reactions would go into a different direction. None of them ever discussed finding men attractive enough for a relationship.

"Wait who are you talking about?" Kenken turned the meat on the grill. "I thought you were too busy to have someone as a lover. Are you hiding things from us, Acchan?"

Atsushi elaborated on the identity of the person. "I'm not hiding anything. The one other person that I talk to other than you guys is Sakamoto! That's who I'm talking about. He _kissed_ me."

" _Oh_." Both of them simultaneously said.

"I didn't know you saw him as a potential future boyfriend." Mario sipped his beer, not at all bothered about Atsushi's apparent preference. Whatever floated his boat. "You did say he had a well sculpted face and lean body. Hmm...I didn't know you were gay either."

"I'm not!" Atsushi exclaimed.

"Last time, you said he was a robot that showed no emotion or anything. All technical and shit." Kenken arched a brow. "Did you mean that you two had sexual tension or something?"

Atsushi placed his face into his hands. "I don't know! We started dancing and I tripped over some bags. Then—" His face turned bright red. Sakamoto's plush lips popped into his mind. He _wanted_ to kiss him again. Lose himself in his arms and in their dance. "The guy knows how to kiss."

" _Atta boy!_ " Kenken whooped, he smacked Atsushi on the back, his beer sloshed onto his lap. "It's been so long since you swapped stories with us."

Grinning, Mario ordered another round of beers. "Don't leave out the details."

* * *

After deliberating in his mind, Sakamoto placed his chopsticks down. He sipped water to moisten his throat and cleared his throat. "Kubota-san. I have to admit that a new occurrence happened in my life. It occurred a few days ago and I'm ready to say it out loud."

Kubota slurped down his noodles before he spoke. "Yes? Go right ahead. What happened?" He readied more noodles and lifted them into his mouth.

Sakamoto confessed. "Maeda-san and I kissed during our latest practice."

Kubota choked on his mouthful of noodles, he patted his chest and swallowed. He lifted a hand to stop Sakamoto from assisting him. "E—Excuse me?"

"I kissed Maeda-san." Sakamoto repeated himself. "Was...that inappropriate of me?"

Kubota dabbed his mouth and chin with a napkin. He turned to the side and faced Sakamoto. "How did he respond?"

"Favorable." Kubota's eyes widened at the dusting of pink on Sakamoto's cheeks. "He kissed me back. I'm just...confused on how to proceed. I haven't had this situation happen to me before."

Kubota thought for sure that one of Sakamoto's many partners attempted to kiss him. "It's simple. You either want to kiss him again or ignore it. Kind of hard since he's your partner for this year. What do you think?"

Sakamoto bit his bottom lip. "I'd like to continue our partnership. We can't ignore what happened between the both of us. Our teachers caught us so there is no remote way it will be forgotten."

"Fukase _knows_?" Kubota inquired in shock. "Was he upset?"

"I couldn't tell." Sakamoto sighed. "Hayabusa-san cackled in different intervals of our practice. He found amusement in our predicament. I'm sure he's smoothing things out with Fukase-san. Well, if he had any problems to begin with."

"Oh okay."

Sakamoto picked up his spoon and chopsticks again. "How are your relationship aspirations coming along?"

Kubota laughed nervously. "No luck on my part. I'm rooting for you though!"

* * *

Sakamoto and Atsushi went on a break after their teachers allowed for it to happen. When Fukase and Hayabusa left the room, they sat down on their usual seats. Cooling down a bit, they drank water and stretched out their limbs. Blunt as ever, Sakamoto brought up their kiss, making Atsushi turn bright red from the recollection.

Sakamoto informed him. "I don't regret my actions."

Atsushi checked the doors for any sign of their teachers, he scooted closer to Sakamoto. "I didn't regret it either. I'm just surprised our teachers haven't reamed us for making out during our practice time."

Sakamoto gulped down water to wet his throat. "I'm certain they will attempt their commentary on another day."

"Yeah...Hayabusa saves his teasing for a time when it's convenient for him." Atsushi removed his hairband and ran his fingers through his hair. "So, what are we exactly?"

"I'd like us to enter a relationship. Although, the timing is a bit off, we are in the middle of practicing for tango season." Sakamoto licked his lips. "Then again, my parents got together during the first year of their partnership."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Hmm...well I have no problem with us being together, our teachers know about us..." Atsushi grimaced. "I'm not going to like their little snippets while we're dancing. I can already imagine Hayabusa whistling or doing something similar."

Sakamoto leaned close, brushing their lips together. "I don't mind this arrangement."

Atsushi laughed. "Damn, don't make it sound like that."

* * *

At Sakamoto's house, Atsushi watched the annual music awards. His parents invited guests for a different event which prevented him from inviting Sakamoto to his house. Paying close attention to the dance moves, he saw a few worthy ones to add into his routines. Despite having little to do with tango, he learned from watching other people perform.

Eating different variety of snacks, Atsushi tried not to make a mess of Sakamoto's living room. Although, Sakamoto informed him that the family maid came around on the weekday. A few crumbs didn't cause that huge of a mess.

As they went through each performance, he enjoyed making commentary alongside Sakamoto. Sakamoto's curt words caused him to burst into laughter, noting the extravagant and odd outfits some of them wore. Sakamoto didn't hold himself back from anyone.

"Ah, _Nightingale_ is performing." Atsushi commented. "Mario's wife loves this group. Man is that woman obsessed." He leaned back on the sofa, placing his hands behind his head. "Whenever we go to their place, she has their music playing on their stereo. I think their kid is starting to like them too. Although, she's too young to really make a real decision anyway."

Sakamoto piped up. "Aina used to be my partner."

Atsushi sat up. "For real?" Sakamoto nodded his head. "Well, damn, you've had great dancers as your partners then. Not to bash my own ladies, they ended up either married or going into university on their own terms."

"Aina found the obscurity of tango a bit tame for her taste. I remember catching her watching idols on her phone and learning the dance moves." Sakamoto remembered Fukase's annoyance at her constant distractions and her sudden _change_ in career. "I suspect Fukase-san helped nudge her into this direction."

Atsushi grumbled. "Wouldn't put it past him."

Sakamoto leaned closer to Atsushi, but kept his eyes on the screen. "I bumped into her some months ago. She seemed happy in her position."

"She must be happy. The girl is lavished with money and traveling all over the place. Idols get paid a pretty penny." Atsushi placed his cheek on Sakamoto's shoulder. "What do you think of the dancing?"

Sakamoto glanced down at Atsushi before turning back to the screen. "Aina is relatively the same. The other girls need more practice in grace."

"Harsh." Atsushi whistled.

* * *

Kubota tried to hide his humor of Sakamoto's breathless state. The usual proper and collected Sakamoto tried regaining his composure right in front of him. Saying nothing, he greeted Sakamoto, handing him a tin can of his favorite tea. He remembered Sakamoto didn't drink alcoholic beverages to keep his mind intact throughout his training periods.

Entering the home, he saw another pair of shoes near the shoe box on the side. Keeping his thoughts to himself, Sakamoto lead him to the familiar living room that was used for guests. Sitting in the middle of a two seater, he took out his phone.

"Before I go, I have to inform you that I have a visitor."

"I suspected." Kubota sing songed. "You never invite someone over unless it's Fukase...it's not...Fukase. Right?"

Sakamoto shook his head, his lips quirked into a small smile. "Not at all. He tends to spend his time at the school or with Hayabusa-san. Maeda-san is the one who has come to visit me. We're looking through new moves to incorporate into the routine."

"Oh okay."

"I'll be right back with some tea." Sakamoto informed Kubota as he left the living room for the kitchen. "I'll inform Maeda-san of your presence when I return."

"Sure, no problem." Kubota said before giving a glance to his phone.

"Hey Sakamoto—" Atsushi stopped when he noticed the person sitting on the sofa. "I didn't know Sakamoto was going to have company over. Who are you?""

Kubota looked up, seeing Atsushi Maeda for the first time in years. A vast difference from the beanie wearing delinquent who smoked behind the school. "Oh man, you've changed a lot since the last time we saw each other. It's good to see you, Maeda-san."

"Huh?" Atsushi tilted his head to the side, his scary face amplified from the light shining from behind his head. "Do I know you?

Kubota nodded his head, he smiled nervously as he explained. "You see...you used to go to my old high school."

"Which one?" Atsushi stopped himself from sneezing through rubbing his nose. "I went to three different high schools so you're going to have be specific." Kubota uttered out the name and Atsushi asked him. "Your name?"

"Kubota Yoshinobu."

" _Oh_." Atsushi hit his palm with his fist, he asked him. "Were you the one with the mom who crushed on the Chorizo looking teacher? She left gifts in his homeroom class _and_ the faculty office!" He rubbed his chin, trying to recollect more of his high school memories. "I think she left him love notes or something...I'm not sure. Kenken was the one who received the gossip around the school."

Kubota's face reddened in mortification, memories of his class teasing him rushed back into his mind. He fought hard to forget his mother's embarrassing crush. "Y—Yes. I didn't think anyone _remembered_ that! _No!_ " He covered his face with his hands. "I can't believe this!"

Atsushi snickered. "Can't be that bad. The teacher turned her down gently and didn't humiliate her or anything. He got free food for a good chunk of time."

"My parents divorced because of her actions." Atsushi's smirk faltered at the news, not finding it humorous anymore. "The school found this whole thing funny, but my father saw it as a shot to his pride. To have his wife want someone a decade younger than him, it angered him. They attempted therapy, but...let's just say she didn't regret her actions. I juggled both of them until I went to university."

Atsushi winced. " _Yikes._ That sucks. Which one of the parents do you still talk to?"

"None of them." Kubota sighed. "I was grateful that my father paid for university, but I didn't want to hear them fight all the time. More peace of mind that way. I still send them a present for their birthdays every year though."

"I can't think of not talking to my folks. I might have caused them stress, but they have supported me throughout these years." Atsushi said. "Anyway, how do you know Sakamoto? Don't tell me you're a dancer too."

Kubota chuckled. "No, no, I'm a regular old office worker. I don't have the grace to go through the intense training that Fukase-san makes them go through."

Atsushi snorted. "The guy is a slave driver, not that Hayabusa is any better. He makes us go through weight training for lifting purposes."

As they dove into their conversation, Sakamoto made his appearance. Stopping at the door, he held a tray of iced tea in his hands, surprised at seeing them speaking to one another. "Ah...you two have met."

Atsushi grinned. "Turns out I knew this kid from one of my high schools, well, one of the three. Weirdest thing. It's such a small world. Isn't that right Kubota?"

Kubota smiled. "Yup." He motioned to Sakamoto. "Sakamoto came around after you transferred schools. He stayed for a few semesters before transferring into a private academy."

"Oh?" Atsushi arched a brow, "Why didn't you tell me that you went to my old high school?"

"You never asked."

Atsushi pouted. "You're ridiculous."

* * *

From the start, Hayabusa wanted nothing more than to throw Fukase out the door. Although, his father interjected his flawless plan and invited Fukase into _his_ home. Standing on the side, he watched Fukase talk to his father with a tender smile. He thought Fukase manipulated his family long ago, but he saw genuine eagerness in spending time with his father. Thinking on it, he knew his brothers would have jumped at the chance to talk with Fukase.

Watching their conversation, he saw no sign of the arrogant and cold man from his past. In front of him, sat someone who talked to his father with respect. He heard no sarcastic or derogatory remarks. Nothing to make him want to jump in front of his father. He should have expected it, Fukase spoke to his family without any pretenses behind his words.

Giving up on standing up, his leg started to ache, he sat right beside his father. He nodded at Fukase's direction while keeping an ear out to their topics. At times, he gave his own comment before letting them take over.

Checking his phone, he saw another message coming from Atsushi. Answering him quick, he received a message from Ryuu. Opening the text message, he saw a picture of his brothers on the beach with the Itsukushima gate in the background.

"Pops?"

"In other words-yes Shou?"

"Ryuu sent a message. This time they're at Itsukushima island." He handed his father his phone.

Hiroshi chuckled. "My, my, they are going to gorge on the seafood!"

Fukase inquired. "Your brothers are traveling?"

Hayabusa answered him, ruffling the back of his blond hair. "Yeah, they started earlier in the year. They're got it in their heads to travel to all of Japan's national areas and splurge all of their money."

Fukase tilted his head. "I'm not surprised. I remember hearing Akio mention this dream of theirs when we were younger. I'm glad that they managed to save up the money and have the time to do it."

Hiroshi handed Hayabusa's phone into Fukase's hands. Hayabusa tried taking his phone back, but Hiroshi tapped his hand. "Shou has collected all the photos on his phone."

Fukase used the back of his hand to hide his smirk from Hiroshi's view. "Thank you." Looking through the contents, he concealed his laughter at the mortified look from Hayabusa. He went through the vacation photos, hearing Hiroshi's explanation on each one. Swiping the last photo of the Hayabusa brothers, he saw one which featured him. A candid photo of him watching Sakamoto and Atsushi during practice.

His heart skipped a beat at the implications. Hayabusa had a picture of him on his phone. He wasn't even annoyed at Hayabusa for sneaking an image of him. In fact, he felt flattered at the gesture.

Leaving the second to last photo, he exited out of the gallery. Placing it into Hayabusa's hands, he hid his glee at having discovered Hayabusa's little secret. They talked about a different conversation for a while longer before he decided to leave.

Fukase excused himself. "I love spending my time here, but I should get going." Getting up on his feet, he shook hands with Hiroshi. "Thank you for the wonderful time. It's been amazing catching up with your family. Shou doesn't tell me anything." He winked at Hayabusa, Hayabusa glared at him.

Hiroshi scoffed. "You know how tight-lipped Shou can be. He doesn't want to me anything about you either." He got up and walked Fukase to the door. "Start calling me again, I retired so I have plenty of time to spare."

"Of course," Fukase looked beyond Hiroshi and saw Hayabusa's speculative frown. "We can complain about Shou's inconsiderate actions in keeping us from each other."

"See to it!" Hiroshi chuckled.

Fukase put on his shoes and waved at Hayabusa. "I'll see you later at practice." Once he left out the door, Hayabusa let himself relax.

Hiroshi turned around and walked toward his son, patting his back. "We should invite him over more often! I have a nice hot pot recipe that I know he'll enjoy. Maybe your brothers will be around next time."

"Y-Yeah."

* * *

Unable to control his impulses, Atsushi pulled Sakamoto onto him and kissed him. Walking backwards, they hit the wall, clinging to one another. He loved having Sakamoto pin him to the wall, he tended to forget everything around them. Tossing away the thought about their warm ups, their attention laid on each other. When Sakamoto found out about french kissing, they practiced this aspect often.

Sakamoto left his propriety behind, focusing on Atsushi's reactions. His hands wandered around, touching different areas which differentiated from their usual dancing body contact. Bodies molding together, his skin burned where Atsushi touched him. Furthering a passion that he assumed never developed during his adolescence. Where different couples expressed their lust, his own didn't flicker. Atsushi broke down the dam without meaning to do so.

Running his fingers through Atsushi's hair, he gripped different sections, making Atsushi growl in between kisses. Breaking contact, they regained their breath, connecting their foreheads.

Taking initiative, Atsushi turned them around, pushing Sakamoto against the wall.

"Maeda-san?"

"Call me Atsushi, you are my lover after all." Atsushi insisted, his hands kneaded Sakamoto's hips, grinding their bodies. "Don't be so formal while we're making out. C'mon, it distracts me."

Sakamoto spoke again. "Atsushi-san..."

"Close enough." Atsushi nipped under Sakamoto's collar bone, a strangled whine came out of him. Urged on, he moved his hands underneath Sakamoto's shirt, running his fingers all over his skin. Kissing down his neck, he caressed Sakamoto's sides.

Hayabusa rolled his eyes, giving them a suggestion. "If you two are going to make out, do it in the locker room. Less chance of someone walking in on the both of you." He snorted at the way Atsushi and Sakamoto tried sputtering out an explanation.

* * *

Sakamoto found Atsushi's friends quite amusing.

He didn't regret accepting Atsushi's invitation to meet up with Kenken and Mario. Atsushi's oldest friends from way back in elementary to the present time. They went through the same phase and backed each other up. Each one of the guys differentiated from the group, giving a nice mesh up of people who cared for one another.

He met up with them at a okonomiyaki place. An establishment which garnered a nice reputation from the reviews online. Although, Atsushi swore the deliciousness of the food himself. Having gone there with his friends during high school, the flavor kept on becoming consistent.

To his surprise, he saw a little girl accompanying them, Mario's daughter, Aimi. When they sat down in their station, Aimi spewed different questions, trying to get a feel of him. He answered them, no matter how small. She sat next to him, taking up Atsushi's place at his side. Atsushi joked at Aimi taking his place before kissing her forehead and sitting across from him.

From his peripheral, he caught Mario pinching Kenken's side whenever a swear word almost passed from his lips. It amused him from what he knew on their previous behaviors from their youth. The old delinquents have now tamed themselves in the presence of a child.

"So, you're Acchan's boyfriend?" Aimi inquired with a cheeky smile.

Sakamoto nodded his head. "Yes."

"Aimi!" Mario turned to Atsushi. "I swear, I don't know how she found out. She must have heard my conversation with Kasumi."

Atsushi waved it off. "Eh, Aimi is not as naive as you like to think." He looked at her with a grin. "You don't mind that I have a boyfriend, do you Aimi?"

"No! He's a cutie!" Aimi exclaimed. "Marry him! He can be my new uncle."

Kenken and Atsushi burst into laughter while Mario bemoaned having her notice the appearance of men. Sakamoto patted the top of her head, making her grin up at him. She hoped from her seat and crawled up Mario's lap. He clung to her, muttering about her growing up too fast.

When the server arrived, they picked a few different ingredient packages while ordering a round of iced tea. Mario didn't want Aimi accidentally drinking beer on his watch. Kasumi would get furious as well if she ever found out.

Sakamoto suggested. "I can cook the food for us."

Atsushi, Kenken and Mario agreed. Since Aimi was sipping her iced tea, she ended up nodding her head instead of speaking.

Once the first bowl came around, Sakamoto went to work. Tossing the ingredients in the right place, he focused on making an amazing presentation of the arrangement. He didn't notice their faces of amazement until Aimi piped up.

"That's so cool!" Aimi clapped her hands in delight. "Daddy look! Sakamoto-san is so amazing!"

Mario turned to Atsushi in awe, he moved Aimi onto his other knee. "Acchan are you seeing this? Your partner is awesome!" He patted the top of Aimi's head. "You have to use this small spatula to grab small pieces of the food. Alright?"

Kenken cheered. "Sakamoto, you make the next one. These are looking like five star quality okonomiyaki. I don't even want to try to make one. They always turn out like sh—" Mario glared at him. "like...junk. Yeah junk."

Atsushi scooped out a piece and ate it. "Not bad. I can't lie, it's way more delicious than usual." He turned to Sakamoto. "You could have been a chef if you didn't dance."

Sakamoto scratched his cheek with his finger. "I entertained different facets of talents, but I ended up in dance. I still continue on with my hobbies whenever I have the chance to spare the time."

Kenken snickered, nudging Atsushi's side with his elbow. "You could always make Acchan a romantic dinner. Sweep him off his feet and all that."

"Kenken!"

Sakamoto smiled light. "I wouldn't mind. I do have a few recipes in mind for such an occasion."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: The last two parts of my tango! AU. Thank you all so much for following this story to the end. I'm so sorry it has taken me this long to finish everything. I wasn't sure if there are still Sakamoto fans who still read the fanfics, but I wanted to finish this fic before it just sits at incomplete for years.**_

 _ **-Lucicelo**_

* * *

 _ **Part 4**_

Bouncing his knee in nervousness, Atsushi tried not to seem obvious about his anxiety toward the other competitors. Showing an inkling of weakness didn't benefit him in the long run. He practiced his routine with Sakamoto _way_ past their normal practice hours, adding flair to the right parts and smoothing out tense limbs in certain positions. Their goal of entering the main stage of the tango scene fueled their motivation.

Their hard work had to pay off.

Hayabusa and Fukase wouldn't have expected anything less out of them.

" _First place goes to..."_

Atsushi pulled Sakamoto into an one arm embrace, cheering in delight. Not one for loud expressions, Sakamoto did his usual clap with a small smile. Both of them thought they heard Hayabusa's screaming cheers through the claps. They expected Fukase to nod in approval once seeing them in their street clothes.

With a bounce in his step, Atsushi hooked an arm around Sakamoto's shoulders, guiding him to the locker room. He almost _whistled_. Their winning streak boosted his confidence and a surge of pride rose due in their hard work paying off. Hearing chimes coming from his phone, which he turned on once he left the stage, he knew his friends wanted to know their results of the competition. Whether he won or not. To take him out to a celebratory dinner or a reassuring one.

As he changed into the clothes he arrived in, he noticed Sakamoto's serious form. "Hey, Sakamoto?"

"Hmm?"

Atsushi tossed his blazer to the side, not even caring if it creased. "So...when will your parents show their faces?"

Sakamoto sighed. "You won't be able to meet them, Atsushi-san." Atsushi arched a brow and motioned for him to continue. "They travel around the world and only return to Japan a few times a year. Upon their return, it is for their own personal interests, not a means to meet with their son. Even if I requested for them to meet you, they would not part with their planned activities and social events."

"Okay? Can't they do it in this case? I'm sure they want to hear about our plans for the main competition."

"I stopped trying to communicate with them years ago." Sakamoto kicked off his shoes, marring the back heel of his shoe, stunning Atsushi at the sudden lack of care. "I'm sure I told you once before that they ceased coming to my competitions."

"Your folks never come to your competitions?" Sakamoto shook his head. " _We won_! My parents arrived together to tape our performance. Pops managed to finish his work so he could come to this thing. They'll be meeting us in the lobby with Fukase and Hayabusa." He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his white tee, and asked. "Don't they know about your winning streak?"

Sakamoto changed into a new set of clothes. A short sleeved dark green turtleneck and black slacks. "Fukase-san sends them a progress report every week. I receive a small note where they express the furthering of the Sakamoto name in the circuit."

He grimaced at the thought of the last note. His parents commented about exchanging Atsushi for a _capable_ partner. A _female_ partner. An option he tossed aside, Fukase agreed with him. Fukase didn't dare disturb a _winning_ _duo_ for parents who didn't pay him out their pocket anymore. Sakamoto paid Fukase through their renewed contract, bringing their importance down to a _minimum_.

Atsushi didn't react well to any commentary about the infamous Sakamoto duo. Sakamoto relayed snippets of his parents constant traveling and distant manner of his upbringing, which developed a horrible impression on Atsushi. Atsushi's involved parents showed their unrelenting support of their son. An _immense_ difference from his parents. He last saw his parents in person at his high school graduation, where they departed after the ceremony ended.

He cared for his parents, but any deep parental love dimmed once he grew older. Envious bubbles curdled his stomach at the sight of parents who doted on their children. He received such rare treatment in a minute set of memories, many of which, happened when the family went out together in public. Half the time, he stood, tuning the adults out when his parents boasted about his accomplishments and his future in the dancing scene.

He doubted his parents _ever_ expressed any love for him.

Atsushi emphasized. " _Excuse_ _me_?"

Sakamoto put his hands up, trying to placate Atsushi from his fury. "Atsushi-san, please, I'm used to their distance." His smile didn't reach his eyes when he explained. "I stopped hoping for them to _attend_ my performances after I turned sixteen." He pressed their lips together and cupped Atsushi's face. "Please, don't get distraught on my account. I'm used to it."

Atsushi bit out. "If _you're_ not going to be mad, then, _I'll_ do it for you. Hell, my parents can somewhat adopt you into our fold. Forgot you're their kid, you're an honorary Maeda now."

"That sounds like a proposal." His cold hands picked up Atsushi's gradually warming cheeks. "Is it a proposal?"

"Nah, too early for such things. I'll see in a few years." Atsushi wrapped his hand around Sakamoto's tie and pulled him down to his level. "Although, it's out in the open. I wouldn't mind being tied to you."

A dusting of pink spread throughout Sakamoto's face, Atsushi always managed to switch it back onto him. "Let's focus on this partnership first."

"Sure."

* * *

Moving her laptop monitor to the side, Aina collected her makeup products on her side of the large vanity desk, perfecting her winged liner. Her group members hurried throughout the dressing room, tripping over clothes and one another, for the chance to inspect themselves on the largest mirror. A certain pair, who always fought behind the scenes, exchanged scathing words while snatching back parts of an outfit. Aina rolled her eyes, she feuded with others, but kept it away from prying eyes. No use having gossip leak out and tarnishing her bubbly and cute image.

Behind the scenes, she saw worse fights where girls leaked out information about one another on purpose. In some cases, these actions blew up in their face or elevated their careers. It depended on the category in the industry. Idols needed to stick to a certain image, lest someone ruin them due to breaking the illusion given to the public.

Whoever said girls were all about protecting one another, never met the ambitious ones who stomped on others to get to the top. Different careers hid these type of people from view. In a way, she was impressed, but she looked after her own interests. So, she kept herself distant from these types in the entertainment industry. She learned to spot them after a harsh encounter in the beginning months of her career. Her own manager pinched her side for this mistake.

Instead she reconnected with her high school classmates. Her old high school rivals became close friends of hers and she relayed the behind the scenes exclusive on the current favorite idols. They saw beyond the image of Aina, teasing her and taking none of her bullshit. Yagi texted her every so often.

After resuming communication with Sakamoto, Aina kept a close eye on the old tango scene. Her name still circulated, giving her contacts to chat with and scout out information. She learned from a reliable source that Sakamoto and Maeda caused an immense stir. They kept _winning_.

Pride forming in her chest, Aina nodded in smugness. Of course, Sakamoto would end up with someone as amazing as him. Even with the less than impressive partners he used to have, Sakamoto still won his competitions through a sliver above the second place placeholder.

Tapping her touch pad, the newest practice played on her laptop. Her idol mates remained in their own worlds, ignoring her little spot at the long makeup table. Without the sound on, she judged their practice with a critical eye. Maeda's swift feet kept moving back into the pace set in the music, a slight tweak seen through seasoned eyes. A high energy, eager style, reduced down to keep up with Sakamoto's pace. Then again, both of them picked up the speed when adding in spins and slight jumps.

A blond man appeared on screen, smacking Maeda on his waist, Maeda straightened up. In her research, she found that the blond man was Shou Hayabusa, Maeda's teacher. Nothing about Maeda's past came up in the low number of interviews that Hayabusa allowed. Although, a high school, one where Sakamoto attended for a brief time, appeared in the mentions.

Atsushi Maeda bloomed into a _fierce_ competitor.

Sure, this guy competed, but he didn't rise in notoriety until partnering with Sakamoto. Beforehand, his fame stemmed from Shou Hayabusa, the old reigning rival of Fukase. Their rivalry became as famous as their dancing. Hayabusa could have left an even larger stamp in the tango scene, but the accident overshadowed his style of dancing, lowering him as an unfortunate case of bad luck.

Maeda natural instincts, helped him in creating a visual stimulating sight. All eyes landed on him whenever he danced. Even more so with Sakamoto leading him in their performance, or whenever _he_ lead Sakamoto. Both men shared the leading role without seeming out of place. The oddity of their partnership caused a buzz throughout the social media accounts of ballroom dancing fans.

Two _men_ didn't make it _far_ in competitions.

Sakamoto and Maeda _broke_ the mold.

Jumping in without a care, showing the combined performance of the infamous rivals, Sakamoto and Maeda presented a glamorous sight. Sakamoto showed an inner fire, caused by Maeda's passionate movements and attitude. Changing him for the better. These two had more eyes on them than the _most beautiful_ partnership in the circuit. An accomplishment that didn't happen when _she_ partnered with Sakamoto.

"Maeda looks like a hottie, body is amazing, his dance moves are phenomenal, and he adds an extra kick to balance Sakamoto's technical skills." Aina leaned back on her chair, she nodded her head, approving of him. "No one, but the _best_ for Sakamoto-kun."

Maeda landed a passionate, ending pose, dipping Sakamoto in his arms. Their chests heaved from the intense activity. Atsushi pulled Sakamoto up straight, smoothing down his sides with a huge grin. Sakamoto loomed over his partner, fiddling with stray hairs coming out of Maeda's half ponytail.

Aina saw an inkling of love in Atsushi's silver eyes. To her shock, Sakamoto shared the same sentiment. Sakamoto's usual cool eyes, showed pure adoration and love for this man. Their faces grew closer, almost acting out a kiss, but they separated before it happened.

" _Oh_..." Speculative, she curled her finger under her chin. "Sakamoto...is in _love_? Why didn't he _tell me_?!" She huffed. "I'll get my answer soon. How dare he not tell _me_ anything. And here I thought we were friends."

* * *

Hearing the anticipated doorbell, Hayabusa went toward the front door, leaving Fukase with a small glass of whiskey. He shuffled off his slippers and put on his sandals. Opening the door, he grinned at the sight of Atsushi and Sakamoto in layback clothing. Atsushi held up a plastic bag full of snacks and cans of tea. Sakamoto stood beside him, holding a small gift in his hands. '

Acchan warned him about Sakamoto's tendency to bring gifts or something to offer the host whenever he visited a home. The first time Sakamoto went to a Maeda dinner, he brought a tea set and sweets for Acchan's parents. Soichiro called him out on his actions, asking if Acchan's partner was trying to butter them up for some unknown reason. Aiko appreciated the gesture and questioned nothing.

Without a word, Sakamoto handed him the small box into his hands. "Thanks, kid." Sakamoto nodded his head with a small smile. Hayabusa peeked into the box and saw his favorite chocolates. "Damn...you really pay attention when people talk."

Sakamoto bowed. "Thank you for having me."

Atsushi intercepted their moment through asking him. "You didn't wait long did ya?"

Hayabusa moved to the side, ushering them inside. "You two made it in time! Fukase is already getting drunk in the other room." Sakamoto gaped in disbelief. "Just kidding. The guy can hold down his liquor. I don't think I have ever seen him get drunk."

Snorting in amusement, Atsushi pushed off his sneakers before putting on a pair of slippers. "You would have shown me the recording ages ago if that were the case."

"Very true." Hayabusa slapped Atsushi's back who walked toward the living room. He turned his attention onto Sakamoto and noticed him placing his shoes in perfect alignment on the side. "You don't have to do that, just toss them aside. I don't really care. I just don't want them blocking the door."

Sakamoto shook his head. "I...would not feel comfortable throwing my shoes so carelessly."

Hayabusa pointed out. "Acchan does it."

"He's...himself."

Hayabusa bit his lip to stop himself from snickering. "Oh really? So...you don't care that he tosses his shoes to the side when he visits you?" Sakamoto's back tensed. "Because he doesn't give a damn sometimes."

"I corrected his behavior on the first visit." Sakamoto straightened himself up and slipped on the offered footwear onto his feet. "He does not dare to toss his shoes aside when there is a respectable shoe rack beside the door."

"Really?" He cupped the side of his mouth and exclaimed. "Acchan! What did Sakamoto do to break you out of your shoe throwing?"

Atsushi stopped in his tracks and pouted. "He kept intercepting me when I tried getting into his house."

Sakamoto nodded his head. "I do not allow disarray in my home and I kept him at the front door until he followed my rules."

"That simple?" Hayabusa arched a brow. " _Right_." He used his head to motion on ahead as he reached for the doorknob. "Get on going."

Sakamoto walked onto the step and went toward the direction of the living room. In a large lounge chair, Fukase nursed a glass of whiskey, his eyes focused past his person. Nodding at Fukase's attention, his instructor nodded back, but didn't turn his gaze onto him.

Looking through the contents of the bag, Hayabusa sighed. "Acchan, I thought you were going to bring a lot more than this." He folded the plastic bag and laid it on the side of the different bags of chips. "This seems like snacks only _you_ would enjoy."

Atsushi stuck out his tongue. "I brought snacks, you didn't say what kind."

"You little shit." Hayabusa clicked his tongue. "I'm going to have to run to the corner store real quick. There is no way we can have this get together without a _variety_ of snacks to go with the drinks."

Fukase lifted himself up from his seat. "I'll go with you."

"Nope." Hayabusa stated. "I'm going with Sakamoto. You two can man the apartment while we're gone. I'm sure you two will be fine." He turned to Sakamoto and grinned. "You don't mind going with me, right?"

"Of course not." Sakamoto agreed.

Fukase sat back down and drummed his fingers on his knee.

Atsushi made sure to stay a good distance away from Fukase.

* * *

Atsushi checked his messages and his social media for the fifth time. Nervous in confronting Fukase, he attempted to delay the situation through looking at his phone. Fukase didn't seen bothered about the persistent silence that occurred after Sakamoto and Hayabusa left for last minute. In fact, he already lit up a cigarette and blew a line into the ceiling.

Gulping, he managed to keep his voice level when he broke the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. "You better step up to the plate,"

Fukase paused in guiding his cigarette to his mouth. Turning to Maeda, he noticed Hayabusa's student staring at him. " _Excuse me?_ Repeat that, again? Maeda?"

Walking toward Fukase, Atsushi cleared his throat. "Listen, I'm not stupid enough to notice that you have the hots for Hayabusa." Fukase glared down at him, but he ignored his blatant stare. "I'm surprised he let you get close to him. This indicates that you two had something going on years ago, but something soured the experience. Half the time, you two keep sneaking glances at each other."

" _Your point_?"

Atsushi poked Fukase's chest with his finger and told him. "You better make my teacher happy. I might not be in the delinquent phase anymore, but I know plenty of people who can make your life a living hell."

"Are you _threatening_ me?" Fukase leaned into Atsushi's personal space, making the younger man break out in a sweat. "You're light years away from even daring to say such things to me. Trust and believe, I can ruin your reputation without _any_ effort."

"You'll lose Hayabusa." Atsushi gulped.

"So you claim." Fukase leaned back, a flicker of fear flashed over his face.

"Oh, I do claim!" Renewed with confidence, Atsushi informed him. "Hayabusa would _never_ be with someone who threatened _his_ students. He sees us all as his kids, in a way, of course. He wouldn't tolerate such _disrespect_. Remember, he was infamous in the _delinquent_ gangs _before_ he began learning the tango. If he wanted to, he could kick your ass and not get a hit in."

Fukase smirked. "Ah, that's where you are wrong." He gripped Atsushi's face with his hand and applied enough pressure for a sting of pain. "I _have_ gotten into blows with Hayabusa. It was rather enjoyable seeing him so _furious_ with me. The end result was... _satisfying_."

Atsushi grimaced. "If you're trying to creep me out, you _succeeded_. I don't get what he sees in you. Must be something deep, _deep_ inside of your soul because I can't see it."

"And I don't understand why Sakamoto wants to fuck a delinquent like you." Fukase tilted his head to the side. "I can somewhat see it, but you're so beneath Hayabusa's teachings to be considered worthy."

Atsushi snapped. "He taught me everything and more. Insulting _me_ , means insulting _him_. Good job, asshole."

A click signaled that the front door opened, revealing Sakamoto and Hayabusa returning from their errand. Both of them held plastic bags full of snacks, more then enough for the four of them.

Fukase removed his hand from Atsushi's face in time before being incriminated of his actions.

Sakamoto paused at seeing Fukase near Atsushi. _Too_ close to Atsushi. Fukase tended to keep distance from anyone unless necessary. "Is everything alright?"

Atsushi shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing much. He just wanted to have a little talk with me. Were you two worried? It's not like we were going to kill each other without you guys here." He stepped back when Hayabusa went in between them as expected. Walking toward Sakamoto, he asked him. "What snacks did you get? I'm starving."

Seeing nothing off, Sakamoto sighed. "Atsushi-san, you already had your preferred snacks to nibble on while we were gone."

Atsushi dug his hand into the bag. "Oh c'mon, I'm curious."

Hayabusa inquired without preamble. "Fukase, what were you doing with Acchan?" Keeping his voice leveled, he kept their conversation from reaching Sakamoto and Atsushi's ears.

Fukase saw an intensity in Hayabusa's eyes, looking beyond Hayabusa, he saw Atsushi's smug smirk. The moment didn't suit the real truth of their confrontation. For once in his life, he had to lie to Hayabusa. "Informing him on his role in his partnership with Sakamoto."

"And that is?" Hayabusa insisted. "You better not have pushed Acchan down in favor of your student. I thought we were on the same page about this from the start. This is a _duo_ , not a _single_ man show. I have _never_ disrespected Sakamoto and I expect the same for Acchan."

"I never claimed that you _ever_ insulted my student."

"You implied it through assuming I was stupid enough not to notice the atmosphere between you two. I remember your old ways, Fukase. Don't you dare attempt to intimidate _my_ student again." With one last warning glance, Hayabusa backed away from him. Going toward Sakamoto and Atsushi, he hooking an arm around Atsushi's shoulders, leading him away. "I bought some good sake for us to share, Acchan."

Atsushi beamed. "No shit? The good stuff? You spoil me, teach." He looked over his shoulder, grinning at the stunned man behind them. "Sakamoto! Come drink with us!"

Sakamoto followed after them, bags in hand, he declined. "My apologies, but I rather nor drink alcohol before a flight. I'll keep watch over the both of you."

* * *

Attempting to ignore Atsushi holding onto Hayabusa, Fukase poured himself another drink. Fukase downed another shot of whiskey. The familiarity and affection Hayabusa showed Atsushi went beyond instructor and student. None of Hayabusa's other students prompted any physical interaction from him. He sat in the background during some of Hayabusa's classes and Hayabusa kept a distance, but touched their bodies for corrections. Nothing else.

Earlier in the afternoon, Atsushi backed him into a corner. Sakamoto and Hayabusa went to retrieve last minute snacks, leaving them alone in the apartment. Atsushi jumped at the chance, almost _threatening_ him. In his opinion, Atsushi attempted to seem threatening. This _never_ happened to him. _He_ cornered people and caused the uncomfortable atmosphere. He almost laughed at Atsushi's audacity until he began speaking about the relationship between himself and Hayabusa.

For a knucklehead, Atsushi noticed the dynamics between them.

Their impromptu conversation gave him plenty to think about.

He waited until Atsushi and Sakamoto left for the night. Sakamoto helped Atsushi's inebriated form and guided him out the door. Atsushi clung onto Sakamoto, singing a love ballad much to Hayabusa's amusement. Hayabusa sneaked a quick recording on his phone, stifling his laughter a few times. Sakamoto's cheeks developed a slight pink tint when Atsushi tried kissing him, he dodged each time.

From Fukase's spot on the couch, he connected eyes with Sakamoto. Just to mess with him, he winked, an action which stumped Sakamoto. Almost in trepidation, Sakamoto hurried in guiding Maeda out the door. Fukase watched Sakamoto keeping a good grip on Atsushi and avoided staring back at his direction. Hayabusa remained none the wiser.

Hayabusa reminded their students not to oversleep and closed the door. He turned around and groaned the sight of Fukase lounging on his couch. "Why are you still doing here? You can leave with Acchan and Sakamoto. We have a flight in the morning."

Fukase smiled. "I'm helping you clean this mess. It's the least I can do."

"You're sitting on my couch. That's not helping me with anything." Hayabusa went into his kitchen, grabbed some plastic bags, returned into the room and handed a few to Fukase. "Start cleaning. Don't forget to separate the trash in their proper bags. Pops is coming over to take out my trash on the right days while I'm gone."

Fukase lifted himself off the couch. "Sure." Focusing on actual cleaning, he heard Hayabusa point out certain areas.

He spent a good minute adding the right items in the different bags. From the corner of his eyes, he observed Hayabusa moving about, bending down, stretching out body. Stopping, he went next to Hayabusa and caressed his side. Hayabusa froze on the spot. Hayabusa focused on him, questioning him without saying a word.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Fukase's hand stroked down Hayabusa's front, playing with the band of Hayabusa's jeans. "We're all alone now."

"Obviously." Hayabusa placed his hands on top of Fukase's, stopping him from moving toward different areas of his body. He ignored the tremble in his own voice. "Your point?" Fukase pecked his lips before moving onto his neck. "Fukase! We're leaving on an extended flight in the morning."

Fukase paused, he felt Hayabusa's hands shivering as they kept his own in place. "Waking up early hasn't stopped you in the past. I distinctly remember this one occasion—"

Hayabusa growled, yanking Fukase's hands off of him. "We haven't done this in _years_. Why do you suddenly want to fuck me? Are you frustrated? Not able to find some other idiot to take my place?"

Fukase made no move to touch him, standing in place, he said. "I had a revelation this afternoon."

"So?"

"I wasted too much time avoiding the unanswered relationship between us." Fukase tapped his chin with his pointer finger. "Your student, though naive and impulsive, knows a lot more than he presents to the public. I thought about it throughout this get together."

Hayabusa rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I was the reason you two fought wasn't it?"

"We had a...conversation." Fukase said.

Hayabusa rolled his eyes. "Conversation? What? Did you realize you had sexual frustration?"

"It's not sexual frustration, I assure you." Fukase said.

" _Fukase_."

"I want you." Fukase started into Hayabusa's eyes. "Sure, there are people who attempt to get into my good graces. At times, they use physical methods, but none of them compare to y—"

Hayabusa breathed through his nose, he gripped the bag in his hands. "Stop it. _I'm done._ I've spent years trying to not get emotionally invested. I tried moving on with Alvaro," Fukase gritted his teeth at the mention of that name. "and you know how that _ended._ Find someone else."

"Other people bore me."

"I'm _not_ entertainment." Hayabusa tossed trash into the bag and moved around the living room.

"Shou." Hayabusa ignored him. "Shou, you know how much I hate it when you ignore me."

Hayabusa dropped the bag on the floor, turning his head, he snapped. " _Leave!_ We'll deal with this thing after we come back from Italy. I'll tolerate you for Acchan's sake. He doesn't need his teacher getting into fights."

Fukase tried salvaging their conversation. "I haven't fucked other people, Hayabusa."

Hayabusa glared at him, pointing to the door, he said. "I _don't_ care."

"Yes, you do. Your emotions show real clear on your face. You could never hide anything from me." Fukase shoved his hands into his pockets. "Nevertheless, I'll respect your wishes and leave for tonight."

Hayabusa gritted his teeth. "There you go again, playing with me and making me out as a fool."

"Playing with you?" Fukase inquired in genuine confusion. "I don't recall having done such a thing. In all my years knowing you, I never lied or played any games."

Hayabusa ran his fingers through his hair, his frustration pressed into his voice. "Don't lie to me, everything is a game to you. I'm the idiot who got caught up in your web of lies."

Fukase stepped toward him, causing Hayabusa's guard to go up. "I have _never_ lied to you. Despite our rivalry, I didn't disrespect _or_ undermine your talent. When we started getting physical, I thought it came from leftover adrenaline. Neither one of us brought up the topic of this new facet of our relationship. I kept tight lipped and we continued messing around. Nothing became established and then you went into the arms of another man."

"Whose fault was that?"

"I'm not going to elaborate further about that _waste of space._ " Fukase arched a brow. "Besides, your _family_ took notice _years_ ago."

Hayabusa took a step back. "My family _knows_ about us?"

Fukase let out a sigh. Out of all the things he said, Hayabusa focused on his family finding out their secret. "Your father noticed our behavior and wanted to know the truth. I left out the less than pleasing details and gave me his blessing. For someone so easy going, he knows how to threaten a guy. Your brothers did the same after I spoke to them."

Hayabusa groaned. "It's no wonder pops kept asking about you. My brothers teased me about you all the time. You somehow popped up in a lot of the conversations I had with pops when it pertained to tango. They seemed disappointed when you stopped coming over. He _hated_ Alvaro and—"

"Do not say _his_ _name_ to me, Shou."

" _Fine_." Hayabusa said. "Pops doesn't hate a lot of people. I noticed his grimace whenever he visited the apartment. Either you won my family over or pops found him scummy from the start."

"I'd go for the latter. Although, I wouldn't say they found me less than appealing. Your father always greeted me with a smile whenever I visited you." He noticed the time on the wall and sighed. "I should get going, the last train will depart soon. I'll let myself out."

Hayabusa expected Fukase to attempt another kiss him, but he received a smile. "W—Wait." He grabbed the back of Fukase's jacket, stopping him from taking another step.

"You told me to leave, Shou. I can't do that if you're holding onto me." Fukase commented in amusement, Hayabusa kept a tight grip on him. "Shou?"

"Stay for the night."

When Fukase turned around, Hayabusa released his jacket. "Are you sure? Shou? Please, tell me you're certain of what you're offering. I won't leave your arms tonight if you tell me I'm staying for the night."

Hayabusa licked his lips, he stepped into Fukase's personal space, feeling Fukase wrap his arms around him. "Stay for the night. Just...no fooling around, alright? We haven't cleared a good portion of our problems and we can't let lust cloud our judgement."

Fukase inquired in amusement. "So...no kissing?"

"I-I-" Hayabusa stammered. "One?"

Fukase snickered before connecting their lips. A simple peck, no pressure added into the act. He kept his arms on his side, trying hard not to lay a hand on Hayabusa. He left the option up to Hayabusa and sure enough, Hayabusa wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling him close.

Ending their contact, Hayabusa uttered out. "Okay...one more."

Seeing his chance, Fukase extended their kiss, using his tongue to leave Hayabusa breathless. In the end, Hayabusa kept clinging onto his shirt as he tried regaining his breathing. He growled in satisfaction at still having this effect on the man before him.

They ended up sleeping in each others arm. Fukase made sure to keep an arm and a leg on Hayabusa to prevent him from moving away from him in the middle of the night.

* * *

Sakamoto pondered how he let Atsushi drink so much to enter into such a handsy stupor. On their way toward Atsushi's apartment complex, Atsushi clung onto him, attempted to bite his neck or made strides to kiss him in the taxi. To his relief, the taxi driver focused on the constant groups of drunk business men stumbling onto the road to pay attention onto them. Although, he suspected the man kept an ear out to whatever sweet nothings Atsushi boasted in the car.

Once they made it to Atsushi's apartment complex, he paid the man and helped Atsushi out of the car. They stumbled through the main lobby and went into the elevator. Throughout the journey, Atsushi continued touching Sakamoto in different areas of his body. Sakamoto ignored him for the most part, almost amused at this side of Atsushi when he got any liquor inside of him.

Stepping out on Atsushi's floor, the pair made their way through the hall and stopped in front of Atsushi's apartment. Exchanging some quick words, Sakamoto made sure to dig out Atsushi's keys from his pocket and handed them into his hand. Sharing a quick kiss, Sakamoto waited for Atsushi to enter the apartment. Instead of Atsushi going into his apartment, he turned around and pushed him against the door.

Sakamoto looked up at Atsushi, confused at the sudden action from his partner. Without prompting, Atsushi connected their lips, rubbing their bodies together in a slow and sensual pace of friction. He tried not to wrinkle his nose at the smell of alcohol, but Sakamoto tolerated it as Atsushi kissed down his neck. In some moments, flickers of pain came from Atsushi biting parts of his skin and a shiver from him licking those spots.

Checking around the hall, Sakamoto noticed no one coming out of their homes or even walking down the hallway. This gave him some relief in not getting caught by a stranger so he somewhat let Atsushi do as he wished. Although, he made sure to keep Atsushi's hands from going beyond his waist and moved them to his sides instead.

After some time, Sakamoto fought for his mental control and broke the fog of pleasure that clouded his mind. His body hummed from the influx of pleasure from Atsushi's ministrations, the physical manifestation formed in his slacks, making them uncomfortable and tight. "Atsushi-san, I have to go now."

Atsushi whined. " _No_. Stay here." His hands went under Sakamoto's shirt, caressing his skin. " _Please_."

Sakamoto gulped. "We have a flight in the morning. I will meet you tomorrow." He maneuvered around Atsushi, concentrating on lessening the pressure in his pants. He had some success until he looked back at Atsushi's flushed face. "You are too inebriated to agree to any of these actions. I have to leave."

"I am not _that_ drunk." Atsushi pouted. " _Hmph_. But...I see your point." He puckered his lips. "One kiss before you go?"

Sakamoto moved his body to the side before pecking Atsushi's lips. "I will call you thirty minutes before we have to depart to the airport. I...shall bring brown paper bags for any incidents on our way to the airport."

"Meh...I don't vomit that often. I'm a seasoned drinker!" Atsushi opened the door to his apartment and stumbled on inside. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

Sakamoto waited until Atsushi locked the door before he turned to the side which lead back to the elevator. He rubbed his neck, feeling warm spots from where Atsushi's lips brushed against his skin. His face blushed red from the recollection and he fiddled with his collar to cover his skin.


End file.
